


Slice of Afterlife

by TiredRazzberry



Series: Death & the Citron [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen Sosuke Being a Bastard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain Kuchiki Rukia, Captain Kurosaki Ichigo, Children, Coming of Age, Developing Friendships, Drabbles, Ensemble Cast, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Growing Old, Ichiruki, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Musician Chad, Non-Chronological, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Bleach Chapter 686 - Death & Strawberry, Not Prominent But I Know That's A Deal Breaker to Some, One-Sided Inoue Orihime/Kurosaki Ichigo, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Outsider, Past Relationship(s), Politics, Post-Canon, Pretty Much Everyone Has Something Going On In The Background, Prompt Fic, Quincy King Uryu, Rating May Change, Royal Guard Orihime, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Soul King Aizen, These Are A Lot of Tags But I Just Want To Cover My Bases, Time Skips, Unrequited Love, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power, World Building Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredRazzberry/pseuds/TiredRazzberry
Summary: The (after)life and times of a Shiba princess and a soul reaper captain.With numerous charming asides to the exploits of their friends, family, and colleagues.





	1. Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Expect no consistency in length or subject or some such from these chapters. I'll try and keep quality at par or above, though, pinky swear.

The invitation came shortly after his promotion ceremony. As in, two minutes after the meeting let out. 

Shuuhei wasn't prepared for it in any sense. 

The captain's haori still weighed heavily on his shoulders, awkward and ill-fitting as the position felt. The cloth had literally been taken from a dead man's back, one he'd admired almost his whole life, for ceremony's sake. A proper fitting haori would have to wait until less than seventy-five percent of the Seireitei lay in ruins. As of yet, most of their dead lay unburied.

He'd buried his predecessor and a dear friend just days before. Hisagi found it difficult to enjoy his promotion alongside Rukia and Iba when all he could think of was Squad Three's remaining vacancy. If Kira had survived, maybe it still would have sat vacant, but Shuuhei couldn't help imagining his friend by his side as Head Captain Kyoraku proclaimed them Captains of the Thirteen Courtyard Squads. Smiling, like he hadn't since the Academy.

Shuuhei had met Lord and Lady Kira for the first time at the funeral. Just a pair among hundreds who attended the mass burial. They asked how their son died, if it had been honorable and heroic. He assured them of their son's dying glory. In truth, Shuuhei had no idea how his friend had died. Only Lieutenant Isane had seen his body after it was collected from the battlefield. The pinewood box was nailed shut, distinguished only by the Lieutenant's seal resting on the lid among a small mountain of flowers. Sunflowers, for hope and recovery. Many caskets were marked with them. A prayer not for the dead, but for the survivors' sakes. 

Shuuhei was not the only captain to stand alone at the meeting. Lt. Kuna was still missing, along with the Lt. Kusajishi. Despite Zaraki's assurances that there was no need to prepare a child-size coffin, the two would be declared dead at the end of the month should no bodies turn up. Zaraki looked strangely unbothered by his chipper companion's absence. Rukia looked all the smaller standing next to the Eleventh Captain without even her third seats kneeled behind her back. Iba, at least, had his former-captain sat proudly at his feet. The Third and Eighth had neither a captain nor lieutenant to represent them. Still, Shuuhei spent the meeting kicking himself for not looking harder for Kuna when he was in the human world. The Vizards might've said they hadn't seen her since before the storming of the Soul Palace, but their lot still didn't exactly trust soul reapers. 

It was irrational, but Shuuhei felt that perhaps the other captains thought poorly of him for returning with two little girls in tow rather than his wayward co-lieutenant. 

If they did, apparently Kuchiki was willing to set it aside for now. Shuuhei had never really spoken to Captain Kuchiki (now Captain Kuchiki of Squad Six, specifically) before. He'd spent the past hour believing the man was silently judging him. So he was more than a little thrown when the man approached him after the meeting with that same unreadable expression of his and said, "Captain Hisagi, I would like to extend an invitation to you to a gathering at the Kuchiki estate tomorrow evening."

"Excuse me, sir?" Shuuhei flushed at the wheezy sound his throat made. 

The skin between Kuchiki's eyebrows didn't wrinkle in the slightest, nor did he frown at the unbecoming reaction by a fellow captain - a minor miracle. Kurosaki really was some sort of messiah. "The nobility have seen fit to celebrate their survival of a yet another near-apocalypse. Under the guise of welcoming the Shibas back into the Seireitei, of course. Seeing as the Shibas have yet to reclaim their estate and the other Great Houses are rubble, my family is hosting the festivities." 

Party. Captain Kuchiki was inviting Shuuhei to a _party_. 

"Ah, well, thank you very much for inviting me, Captain. That's very thoughtful of you. However," He still wasn't used to his position. Not even his time as acting-captain following Tosen's defection had prepared him for the immense pressure he was feeling now. Shuuhei wasn't ready for any sort of public debut that didn't involve using his duties as a crutch. "I believe I would feel out of place as a commoner. And I would hate to embarrass you or my squad." 

"Nonsense," Shuuhei turned and found open air. A small adjustment downwards revealed the new Captain of Squad Thirteen, smiling up at him. "Head Captain Kyoraku may be laidback, but he wouldn't have appointed you if he didn't think you were up to the task. Besides," A friendly elbow to his bottom-most rib. "It's a party for the Shibas. _You_  won't be embarrassing anyone." 

Rukia was proven a prophet ten minutes into the occasion when all decorum was summarily executed by firing squad. Or, rather, by the approximate ton of fireworks Shiba Ganju set off to announce the entrance of his elder sister, the "Lady" of the House, Shiba Kukaku. _Yeah_ , Shuuhei thought, taking in the spectacle of a scantily-clad woman with one arm laughing her ass off about how the old geezers in attendance would never again be rid of House Shiba, _she's very different from Izuru's mother._  

As the festivities steadily descended into chaos, Shuuhei went on the hunt for familiar faces. He spotted Lt. Omaeda and his family, exchanged pleasantries, and bugged off at the first innuendo from Lady Omaeda about her daughter being in need of a husband of "sufficient rank". Captain Sui-feng lingered in the general vicinity of Shihoin Yoruichi, who in turn seemed hellbent on teasing their host till he exploded like a Shiba firecracker - which Ganju and his gang were distributing to the children. Shuuhei steered clear. He found Renji firmly entangled with Kurosaki's usual crew near the main house. Shuuhei didn't know the lot of them well to begin with, but now that the Quincy had been bumped up to King of his remaining kinsmen and the girl was to join the Royal Guard as an insurance policy against their new entirely untrustworthy Soul King, he found himself unwilling to approach them even just to say hello to his old friend. Lord and Lady Kira were nowhere to be found amongst the sea of nobility. Unsurprising. It would have been improper in their mourning. 

Bored and alone, Shuuhei gathered the courage to offer his respects to the newly reinstated House Shiba. Atop the dais in the center of the yard, Lady Kukaku sat sprawled with a bored expression now that both the literal and figurative fireworks had passed. A hint of interest danced in dark eyes at his approach, however. That put Shuuhei on edge. 

"A captain, eh? Let me guess. Byakuya-bo is Six, so going by that ink in your cheek, that'd make you Nine?" 

Shuuhei bowed. Not especially lowly, as one would be expected to for the Head of one the Five Great Noble Houses. Kukaku didn't seem the type to appreciate strict formality. "Exactly right, Milady." 

A chuckle. "'Milady' instead of 'My Lady'. A commoner!" She didn't say it with the disgust other nobles would have used. Nor an ounce of pity, or even awe at his rise in station. "Finally, someone I can talk to in this place." Kukaku sat up and slapped a nearby cushion invitingly. Mindful that they were on what was essentially a stage and every guest within twenty meters had at least one eye on them, Shuuhei took the proffered seat. 

"Thank you for the honor," Shuuhei said for the eavesdroppers' benefit. Kukaku's lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

"Tell me about yourself, Captain. What part of the Rukongai you hail from, maybe your name for starters?" 

"Hisagi Shuuhei of Squad Nine, Milady." 

Kukaku's feline satisfaction dissipated in the blink of an eye, replaced by dull surprise, then a broad grin. "Oh, Yuzu-chan's soul reaper!" She said, entirely too loud. The string and flute band fumbled a note in surprise. Heads turned, conversations died. From the engawa of the main house, Kurosaki and his friends were now watching the dais. Shuuhei wondered if Kurosaki had known before who exactly had brought his kid sisters to the Soul Society. 

"Uh, yes, Milady. I was the one who brought her and the young Lady Karin to the Seireitei." A low hum of whispers broke out below the dais as the eavesdropping nobility digested that admission. Shuuhei was unsure of what it would mean to them exactly. A great honor? An impropriety? He didn't care about impressing any of them, but he'd loathe to inadvertently disgrace his office or sully the girls' reputations so early on. 

Of all the reactions Shuuhei anticipated, Kukaku giving him a good wallop to the back of the head was not one. 

"Milady!" Shuuhei exclaimed, cradling his injured skull. 

"You haven't visited her since dropping her off here at Kuchiki's. What're you doing, trying to give the girl a complex?" Kukaku almost sounded the part of a noblewoman with that chiding tone. Then she went and stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled for her little brother like a dog. He sallied up with a pig under one arm and that troublemaking Fullbringer kid under the other. He looked none too pleased with his sister's method of summons. 

"Yeah?" Ganju grunted. 

"Ditch the Fullbringer and bring Yuzu up here." The smirk was back, and firmly directly at Shuuhei. "I've got a gift for her." 

Yesterday, Shuuhei had been proclaimed a captain after being recommended via last will and testament by his childhood hero and having that recommendation upheld by the remaining captains after witnessing his Bankai. Tonight, he was being presented to a thirteen-year-old girl as a gift by her Great Noble cousin. Shuuhei might have felt a little pathetic if he wasn't already feeling a little guilty. 

The last Shuuhei had seen of either Kurosaki girl had been the day he brought them through the Senkaimon with their hastily packed suitcases. After some fussing over their father and brother over at Squad Four, he'd taken the girls to Kuchiki manor where Rukia promised they'd have a place to stay. He'd bid them farewell at the front gate where Captain Kuchiki's grandfather had been waiting. That had been almost a month ago.

Had the girls really been hurt by his absence? Shuuhei hadn't really thought about it. Now that he did, he regretted not at least passing along a message through Renji or Rukia or some other avenue. He was partially responsible for them now, in a way. Perhaps the Shibas expected him to mentor the girls. But that didn't exactly sit well with Shuuhei either. Not that he was the least bit averse to the responsibility. He hadn't been the type since he was an academy grad plopped right into a seated position. It was just...wasn't that an elder brother's job? He once again wondered about Kurosaki's opinion on the matter.

Shuuhei chanced a peek over his shoulder. Instant regret. Virtual strangers, Shuuhei couldn't read Kurosaki or any of his friends' expressions at all. And Renji just looked plain lost. Was Kurosaki pissed off or just curious about the on-goings of the dais? Did he hate Shuuhei now for telling his sister about his soul reaper activities? Was that disapproval on the Quincy's face? Renji had mentioned that he and Kurosaki were distant cousins or some such. That made him Yuzu and Karin's kin as well. Did the Quincy not appreciate the idea of a soul reaper captain mentoring his young cousins? Was that even what was expected of Shuuhei? Or was he just overthinking things like he had been all the time lately?

 _Probably_ , his rational mind supplied as his mental faculties returned. Shuuhei turned back around. Kukaku met him that unnerving smirk of hers. He tried to smile politely in return. She snorted and reached for the bottle of alcohol a servant at had set down within arm's reach. On the wrong side of the one-armed woman...Shuuhei watched the rest of the party while his companion drank.  

Yuzu's approach was heralded by a low rumble of whispers working its way towards the dais. Like a pebble dropped in a still pond and the ripples making their way towards the shore. An adequate, if incredibly understated, metaphor for all her family's entrances into the Seireitei. Shuuhei watched as a bubble made its way through the crush of the noble guests. They were careful to give the young Shiba princess and her cousin a respectful breadth. 

Shuuhei imagined having the Shibas back was exciting for the nobility, if a double-edged sword. They were a subject ripe for gossip and political discourse with their speedy reaccumulation of power. Their Great Noble status reinstated. Isshin appointed Captain of Squad Four. His war hero son likely to take over Three or Eight. The Fullbringers in their custody. As far as political entities went, they were unpredictable not because it was likely they'd fall out of favor again anytime in the near future. The son was too widely loved, too powerful in his own right. The only uncertainty was the path the house would take. They were volatile. 

One fact tempted the nobility to forget this danger, of course: all members of this powerful family were currently unmarried. 

Shuuhei surmised that this gathering was meant for more than just celebrating their victory. A gaggle of noble maidens lingered in Kurosaki's general vicinity, giggling over the possibilities and death glaring Rukia and her buxom friend. Shiba Isshin had made a show of flaunting his dead wife's poster and _gushing over_ it as if she were still alive, which couldn't have been a coincidence. Many a young man had approached Kukaku before Shuuhei and had left the dais with his tail between his legs. Even Ganju had some interested parties hanging around earlier in the evening before the fireworks went off and the pigs were loosed. Since then, he'd been dogged by a whole other sort of admirers. Namely, excitable children. Shuuhei could only imagine the treatment the girls were receiving. 

Yuzu, at last, stepped into view in front of the dais. She looked every bit the part of a princess and about a hundred leagues away from the girl Shuuhei had met in the human world. The Kuchiki family's doing, most likely, in order to make up for Kukaku's decided lack of clothing, Ganju's mug, and their father and brother's simplistic soul reaper attire. Yuzu and Karin were shouldering the family image that evening, wrapped in layers upon layers of silken kimono, their hair pinned back with ornate combs. Lipstick and rouge painted Yuzu's face. The expression she wore said that playing dress-up had stopped being fun hours ago. 

Shuuhei almost apologized, then and there. But Yuzu looked up from her feet before he could, and her face lit up like one the sparklers Ganju had been passing out. "Hisagi-kun! Long time, no see!" She exclaimed, practically dancing up the dais steps. She was a bit clumsy in her regalia, all but collapsing to the cushion neighboring Shuuhei's own.  

Shuuhei pushed the nearby reacting nobles to the back of his mind and greeted Yuzu amicably. "It's good to see you, too, Yuzu-chan." 

Kukaku sat up, looking very pleased with herself. "The both of you looked bored out of your minds. So I thought I might organize a little reunion." She made a shooing motion towards the rest of the party. "Go on, now." 

Shuuhei and Yuzu exchanged blank looks. 

"And...do what?" Asked Shuuhei. 

That wiped the smug off her face. "I don't know." She grumbled. "Whatever made you two friendly to begin with." 

Another silent exchange. Kukaku's brow twitched irritably. 

"But..." Yuzu ventured timidly. "There's no rain." 

The Lady of House Shiba slammed her empty sake bottle down like a gavel. "Go dance!" She roared.

One last blank look. The both of them were likely wondering if the other even knew how to dance. 

"Dancing, Milady?" 

Shuuhei went a tad cross-eyed looking down his nose at Kukaku's accusatory finger. "Yuzu said she met you in front of a music shop." The finger redirected its ire towards poor Yuzu. "You said you like music." A vague circular gesture that more or less encompassed the both of them. "Hence, a music-related activity: _dancing!_ " 

"But-" Kukaku kicked them off the stage. Literally. 

A single batted eyelash found Shuuhei arcing through the night air, a fresh soreness in his lumbar region, haori fluttering after him. Someone below had taken the liberty of adding a whistle sound-effect to his downward trajectory. It would have been all the more embarrassing if not for his skillset. Shuuhei touched down with sufficient grace for a noble event, hardly kicking up a spec of dirt. The surrounding guests politely _ooh_ -ed and _awe_ -ed at the display. An older gentleman clapped excitedly. 

There was no time to enjoy the faint praise. A second later, Yuzu shrieked across the starry sky. Kukaku had no mercy in her heart for her little cousin. The girl's immediate family cried foul from three separate corners of the Kuchiki gardens. Shuuhei didn't doubt Ichigo or Isshin's ability to rescue the girl with time to spare, but Kukaku clearly held certain expectations for him in regards to Yuzu. Before the Squad Four Captain or his son could, Shuuhei wasback in the air and had the girl well in hand. 

Their landing was met with a fresh round of applause. 

Shuuhei set Yuzu back on her feet. The girl whispered her thanks - her voice shook. She was clearly flustered by the past few minutes. Shuuhei sympathized. They were both a bit ruffled now; his hair felt more chaotic than usual, her ornate comb was missing. The hundred-something pairs of eyes on them weren't the least bit comforting either. 

"Hit it!" Kukaku bellowed across the garden. The band, previously stunned into silence by the human projectiles soaring overhead, jumped back to work. It was a slow, soothing piece meant to play against a backdrop of humdrum political chatter. "Hit it  _harder_ _!_ " Kukaku corrected. The band valued their lives enough to switch to something more at home with drunken soldiers, shaking the barracks down to their foundations, than a noble's banquet. 

Discontent roiled the sea of aristocracy around Shuuhei and Yuzu. But to fight the tone-shift that had been taking place all evening was futile. Ganju and his posy of Rukongai hoodlums, wild boars, and children launched a full-blown invasion on the dancefloor. Kurosaki and company followed suit, along with anyone else possessing a sense of humor. And some who decidedly did not. Yoruichi managed to drag a sour-looking Byakuya into the fun by taking his scarf hostage, which enabled Lt. Omaeda to cajole his captain into tapping her foot to the rhythm while he swung his sister round and round. Watching the chaos unfold was entertainment in its own right.

Yuzu giggled at Shuuhei's side. At his glance, she offered him her hand. It was becoming a familiar pose. "We couldn't possibly be worse than my brother and Uryu-san." 

The two were stiff as marionettes with half the strings cut. Rukia and the healer girl were tittering evilly as they danced literal circles around the other pair. Sado put them all to shame, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big guy. 

Shuuhei chuckled his agreement. "I suppose we couldn't." 

He took the girl's hand and they felt out the rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed the story!
> 
> As a note though:
> 
> Since this is so AU, I decided to go ahead and throw canon to the wind.  
> Yes, in this universe, there are enough leftover Quincies really feeling the phrase 'Fuck Yhwach' to pledge allegiance to Uryu as the new Quincy King. Orihime's 'power to reject gods' thing refuses to be forgotten and will henceforth be used as a security measure against Aizen's untrustworthy ass. Ichigo and Rukia get to be captains. Chad gets to have a peaceful normal life where he makes sweet music for the masses. 
> 
> Side-dish of sad to this is that a lot of characters who have no business being alive in canon are dead here. Namely, Kensei, Rose, and Kira. Don't worry about Mashiro tho. She'll turn up eventually...Just don't think Mayuri's crazy ass is going to get off scot-free here like in canon! 
> 
> The next chapter will probs be shorter. Bear in my this work is not a 'story' really and isn't working towards any ultimate ending, so this may go on for some time or be brief. Like Yuzu and Hisagi, we'll feel it out as we go.


	2. The Postwar Era

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The third prompt gets a bit nsfw-ish, but it lacks detail. Just beware.

**1\. Ancient**

He felt ancient compared to her. It wasn't just that she _looked_ young. She wasn't like Hitsugaya or Momo whose soft, round faces betrayed decades of experience and deadly skill. Yuzu looked thirteen and Yuzu was thirteen. 

How old was he? Twenty-something in the face. Decades older in his soul. The actual number had been lost to time.

He sensed the girl's attachment to him. He sensed the chasm of experience between them more acutely. As things stood, their relationship risked being tremendously unfair towards its younger half. For that reason, he began to distance himself. 

Buried himself in his duties, to his squad and old friends who needed him in these trying times. Presided over burial after burial for fallen squadmates. Trained the skittish new recruits, few as they were. Searched for his lieutenant and found her in the most remote district of the Rukongai. Rebuilt his squad from the ground up as he had once already.

He wasn't so cruel as to totally ignore her from then on, but after a time she seemed to understand. He heard through others of the new life she was building for herself along with her family. That uniform was no longer just something to wear. He sent her a letter, wishing her well in her studies and expressing his utmost faith in her. 

It would be their last intimate interaction for some years. 

**2\. Continue**

She wasn't a prodigy like the rest of her family. Yuzu had to fight for every inch of progress made. 

"You're still awake?" Yuzu hissed at the blotted ink marring her assignment. Across the room, Karin shifted on her futon. 

"Stay in bed," Yuzu urged her. "I'll lay down in a minute." 

Silence. She almost believed her sister had decided to listen for once.

"Is that the essay for Ito-sensei's class? I thought you finished that hours ago." 

"I woke up and was really anxious about it," Yuzu admitted. "It needs to be perfect." 

" _You_ need sleep."

"What I need is top marks in theory. I'm bombing the practical portion." 

"Yuzu," Karin sighed. "It was one exam, and you only scored a point below the class average." 

"I might as well have failed the final, the way Ito-sensei looked at me." She wished it was only Ito. All the instructors were the same at Shin'o Academy. Even her successes were failures in their eyes. She just couldn't measure up to the expectations set by her captain father and hero brother. Even her cousin Kaien who she'd never met haunted her - he'd been a prodigy only matched by the likes of Ichimaru Gin, Aizen's right-hand man. 

"Yuzu," She couldn't stand the pity in her twin's voice. She gathered her things and made for the door. 

"I'll work in the common room. Don't wait up." Yuzu guessed she had ten minutes before either her sister joined her for a late night study session or the dorm matron sent her back to her room. Her sigh sounded like a stormy gust of wind cutting through the still air. The creeky floorboards made her acutely aware of her achy back and joints. Her eyelids felt like they were hooked to sandbags. It was times like these that Yuzu wondered why she even bothered. 

**3\. Desire**

Loss and warm drinks had a way of bringing people together. This togetherness might take any number of forms: a rowdy huddle around a firepit, a quiet chat in private quarters, stargazing on a lonely rooftop, or the rhythmic meeting of hot flesh. Their togetherness, at long last achieved after decades of boyish longing, should have brought him immense happiness. 

But he could sense that her heart wasn't in it. Despite what she'd said about wanting to move on, _needing_ to move on - such things were easier said than done with sincerity. In the end, they lay side by side in the dark, a silent promise forged in the cold sheets between them that they wouldn't let this one night spoil their decades of friendship. 

It was a simple promise to keep. The status-quo was restored between them the following morning with a promise to meet for lunch with Momo in the near future. Matsumoto went on drinking like a fish, flouncing her duties, and playfully terrorizing others. Shuuhei could sometimes he dogged to join her in her antics, all the while flustered by desires that refused to die quietly. 

**4\. Known**

It was a well-known fact among the nobility that some thread of connection existed between the new Captain of Squad Nine and the elder Shiba daughter. After the debacle at Kuchiki manor, there was no denying this. The only mystery was the nature of the connection. 

It made detectives of them all. Or, rather, of all their bored mothers. 

"I believe they're courting." 

"She's twelve, Lady Atsuko."

" _Thirteen_ , Lady Ochiyo." 

"Oh, well, that changes everything. Be sensible. Shiba Isshin refused to betroth his niece to my nephew thirty years ago. Lady Kukaku was nearly a woman grown then. He won't be letting go of either his own daughters anytime soon, believe in me." 

"Then what else could it be? Why else would a grown man bother with a child if not because he is enticed by her station?" 

A troubling thought passed over the tea room. Dark looks were exchanged between the women. 

"Lady Emiko," Ochiyo addressed her dear friend. "You are acquainted with Captain Hisagi. Tell us about his character." 

The older woman shied behind her fan. "Ah. Be warned, we've only spoken a handful of times so I am no authority." 

"You are the authority here." Ochiyo pointed out. The other noblewomen present knew the captain only by rumor, as evidenced by their wild conjecture about his intentions towards the young Lady Yuzu. "Speak your mind. Does he seem the type to take advantage of a young girl?" 

"Not at all." Emiko answered at once. "Captain Hisagi is a kind and noble man. Hardworking, too. Why, the man works himself half to death every day rebuilding our dear Seireitei. So excuse me if I am doubtful he has either the time or the intention to misuse Lady Yuzu." 

"I do not doubt that is what you believe, Lady Emiko," Spoke Atsuko, each word a cautious step. "But is there a chance that his relationship to your dearly departed son could be blinding you to the truth?"

Atsuko startled at the dark look her better leveled her with. It was worthy of that frightening son of hers. 

"No." 

**5\. Berry**

It was a gift from Momo (and Hitsugaya, kinda). Their elderly grandmother had loaded down her precious grandkids with fruits and vegetables from her garden and the local orchard upon their last visit - far more than the two of them could hope to devour alone before the bounty rotted. So each had resorted to saddling friends, acquaintances, and some innocent subordinates with fruit baskets. (Hitsugaya refused to call them such, but that's what they were. Momo put bows on them.)

Shuuhei had accepted his gladly, thinking it'd be nice to have some snacks within arm's reach while doing paperwork. But when he reached for that first snack, he found himself pulling up short.

It was a perfectly plump peach, soft and round and happy and totally undeserving of that bruise on its side. Shuuhei decided to save it for later. 

He picked through the basket, bypassing some dried persimmons that Matsumoto would surely appreciate more than him in favor of some fat, red strawberries. Shuuhei took a moment to admire the first one in the light. Not only was it the perfect shade of red, it had that signature shape...if a bit pointy at the end. Like a certain someone's chin. Come to think of it, the leafs crowning the berry invoked an unruly head of hair. 

Shuuhei tossed the strawberry back into the basket and rummaged around for something edible. His hand closed around a brilliant yellow fruit.  _A lemon_ , Shuuhei thought. He could work with that. Grab a cup of water and a kitchen knife, maybe some sugar -

"Where did you get a citron this time of year, Captain?" Mashiro demanded, snatching the fruit right out of his hand. Before he could attempt an answer, Shuuhei was subjected to the horrific sight of his lieutenant biting right into the citrus fruit as one would a juicy apple. 

**6\. Dazzling**

School holidays didn't mean a break from lessons. Just a different sort. Unlike the Academy's, however, Kukaku's lessons yielded more immediate and explosive results. 

"Fire in the hole!" Ganju bellowed, diving for the makeshift barrier erected for the occasion. He shoved two thick fingers in his ears; Yuzu and Karin followed their cousin's lead, grinning madly all the while. 

A _Ziiiiiip!_

A _Zoooooom!_

One big  _Kaboom!_

Red and white sparks rained down the Shiba estate before quickly fading into the darkness. It lasted an instant, two dandelions of smoke and ember in the night sky. The only evidence of their existence being the smoked-out casings cooling in the dirt. Yuzu and Karin raced to reclaim them. The sisters exchanged proud smiles, hardly seen under the new moon, and basked in their accomplishment. 

**7\. Kiss**

She found them sitting out on the engawa, backlit by a thousand stars. Two black silhouettes shared a close embrace, slotted together perfectly. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Their lips met like puppets in a shadow play. Slow and careful. 

Karin would call her nosey. Yuzu would argue that she was mesmerized. 

The comparison to puppets was appropriate in her mind. Not due to any lack of passion - how decidedly wrong that would be to say - but because shadow plays only concerned themselves with the most epic and true of love stories. Yuzu had the great fortune of witnessing the climax of such a story first-hand. 

Woe to any boy who endeavored to steal her heart. That night, her expectations were set sky high by her brother and his love. 

**8\. Umbrella**

The shopping district on rainy days had a unique beauty. White tile slicked wet, turned to mirrors reflecting each passerby and glowing storefront. Paper lanterns lit in the waking hours, shops packed with refugees from the weather. Smoke and steam billowing from kitchen chimneys and boilers up into the steel grey sky. The streets turned to rivers of umbrellas, every shape, size, and color. Each one telling a story about its owner. 

A red paper umbrella, emblazoned with bold dragons and a swirling breeze. Perfect for a nobleman's son. 

A simple white parasol adorned with plum blossoms for his lady companion. 

Bright yellow plastic that would be right at home in the human world denoted a soul reaper recently returned from an assignment. 

Some children scurried by, huddled under verdant green butterbur leaves. 

An elderly couple, sharing a simple wooden umbrella, chuckled as they passed before ducking into a restaurant. They took the table just adjacent to Shuuhei's own by the window. He noted that the restaurant was getting pretty packed as the lunch hour wore on. It was time he headed back to the barracks - he'd been gone long enough that his lieutenant and third-seat had no business shooing him out again. 

He paid his bill and stepped out into the drizzle, unbothered by his own lack of an umbrella. He was not the only one. 

Another gang of children barrelled past the restaurant. These ones older than the last, clad in familiar if thoroughly soaked uniforms and without even shrubbery to keep them dry. None of them seemed to mind, shrieking laughter over the rainfall, weaving through the crowd with ease. Shuuhei watched them disappear into the river of umbrellas, glad that his decision had been the right one. She looked so much happier than she had on that first rainy day. 

**9\. Imperfect**

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Yoruichi asked for the fifth or sixth time. The growing frequency must have meant they were approaching her and Urahara's training ground. Shuuhei would not be deterred so close to his goal. 

"I only just achieved bankai _._ I feel unworthy of my captaincy having not mastered it yet." It was dangerous besides, what with his zanpakuto's volatile nature. 

Yoruichi did not look particularly impressed with his conviction. "You said it yourself, you just achieved it. The war just ended, don't you think you should take a breather?" She threw her arms up in a hopeless sort of shrug. "I'm not going to tug on your ear like a naive little boy or anything, but I just don't think it's a good idea to pile bankai training on top of rebuilding the Seireitei, running a squad, a newspaper, and learning - what was it? Drums?" 

"Guitar." Shuuhei begrudgingly supplied. 

"Yeah, that. You're going to have to either cut something out of your schedule or you'll end up keeling over one of these days." A wicked smirk over her shoulder. "Then Mashiro will be Captain." The thought sent an arctic chill down Shuuhei's spine.

Still, "It's nothing new to me. I did this all before when Captain Tousen left. Some training won't kill me. Not with access to your special training grounds, that is." 

Yoruichi let out a suffering sigh. "Okay, I see that you're set on this. Don't say I didn't warn you." She then lept off and set a grueling pace for the rest of their journey. Shuuhei followed without another word, refusing to be winded or let on to his marrow-deep aches.

**10\. Mysterious**

"No mystery here," Isshin grumbled at Shuuhei's chart. "Classic case of workaholicism." He tossed the clipboard off to Isane and circled the bed to adjust Shuuhei's pillows himself. "Some rest and you'll be better in a jiff. Bedrest. None of that desk-arm-pillow crap." 

Shuuhei couldn't help wallowering a bit. "Not to sound ungrateful, Captain Shiba, but I don't see why I can't rest back at the barracks. There was really no need to bring me all the way here. I can tell when I'm tired." Isshin's response was to shove him back down into the bed. 

"Yet you still didn't take a damned nap." 

"I had work to do!" Shuuhei protested. Just laying there the past hour, he'd been plagued by thoughts of paperwork and training to be done. Sitting idle made him infinitely more miserable than some small measure of fatigue. 

"A captain always has work to do. That's no excuse." Isshin took up an uncharacteristically grim expression. "According to Lieutenant Kuna, you just about collapsed in front of half your squad. You terrified them. After what they've been through these past few years, they didn't deserve that. You're a captain now, Hisagi-san. Neglecting yourself is neglecting your squad. Rest." It wasn't an order Shuuhei could disobey after such a scolding. 

He awoke hours later. Moonlight poured through the window over his bed, casting the hospital room in shades of black and blue. Warm and teetering on the edge of slumber, Shuuhei's thoughts were far-off things. 

_What time is it? Late..._

_Where is this?...oh, right..._

_Why did I wake up?...probably...a nurse?_

He rolled over, curling up on his side and smashing his face into the pillow. A favorite position since childhood (or, rather Shin'o Academy, the first time he ever had a real bed with a pillow. Before then he'd made due with woven mats and wadded up blankets). Sleep leadened his limbs. The muscles in his neck and back unfurled. The pressure in his temples, rebuilding since he'd woken, dissipated. His last clear thought was of the little flower sitting on his bedside table, two inches from his nose. 

_Was that there before...?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. I actually had to rewrite a few of these (stupid, stupid computer haha), and even switched out some prompts for those in the next chapter because the ideas I had for them worked better in different groupings. This chapter is supposed to be centered around Yuzu and Hisagi's adjustments to their changing situations for the most part. 
> 
> The next one will be semi-world building, focusing on other characters. 
> 
> You may also have noticed I've ditched putting Japanese terms and such in italics. I figured that it was pretty unnecessary in a fandom piece and that it could be a bit distracting in some places. Honorifics are still iffy territory...I hope this is easier on the eyes. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading! Please do comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed!


	3. Reconstruction

**1\. Cheerful**

Between Captain Ichimaru's sinister aura, Captain Otoribashi's affection for macabre theatrics, and Lt. Kira's palpable depression, who could blame Squad Three for being thrown by their new captain's - _brightness_ , was the only word for it. From his carrot-colored hair to the way his voice carried throughout the barracks when one of his numerous friends stopped by, their captain was bright. That smile - the farthest thing from threatening, grim, or morose - was given freely. He was so warm and bright, so much like the sun, it felt indecent! 

It didn't match their motif at all. Despair was their _thing_. None of them were supposed to be happy about the warrior lifestyle they led. Fighting was not meant to be glorious, no joy should be found in it. It was a duty that needed to be carried out with the utmost solemnity. Yet the Head Captain had seen fit to assign them this fight-happy war hero who acted as if he didn't want to be anywhere else in all the three realms. 

"Why not give him Eight? Eight would've suited 'em just fine." Sachihiro griped. 

"Kyoraku wanted to give it to his former Lieutenant. She's even more suited to it." Yoshiaki rebutted without enthusiasm. 

"He should have made up a fourteenth squad for him to run then." 

"Sachihiro-san," They were meant to be tending to the persimmon trees. Instead of doing that or anything faintly productive, his companion was scowling in the general direction of their captain's office. "There's no fighting it. The sooner you accept him, the sooner things will get back to normal around here." 

"This isn't normal, though!" Sachihiro growled, wringing his garden gloves in the midst of his conniption. "That guy doesn't know the first thing about despair. He's just coasted by on hollow powers and his bloodline." 

Yoshiaki ignored his companion with practiced ease, focusing on the task at hand. "We don't know him any better than he knows us. In time, we'll learn more about each another. Until then, I don't feel comfortable making assumptions like that." He quietly chided his squadmate. Before Sachihiro could give a snide retort, he added, "And remember what Captain Ichimaru used to say about assumptions." 

 _Assumptions get you killed._ They knew little of their captain, and such ignorance had proven disastrous in recent history. Who knew how such a powerful young man of noble lineage would take to overhearing his subordinates dressing him down behind his back. Yoshiaki watched a shiver run through Sachihiro. 

That shut him right up. 

**2\. Way**

"King Ishida,  _King_ Ishida," Ichigo rolled the name around his mouth, testing it out. "Ishida Uryu, King of the Quincy." It sounded strange still. 

"Kurosaki, could you please say _anything_ else?" Uryu pleaded. He was bent in half over a desk and radiating discontent. "Like 'bankai'. You're great at shouting 'bankai'. Or 'Getsuga Tensho'. You have plenty of practice repeating that over and over again." 

Ichigo shrugged off the sarcasm easily enough and decided to cut right to the heart of the issue. "You could always order them to call you something else. They listen to you." 

"Because I'm their  _king._ " Uryu's pencil hovered ominously over the paper in front of him. He sighed and reached for an eraser. 

"No, because of all the remaining Quincy you hate their old boss the most and were the first one willing to try and take him down even though he was literally omniscient." Ichigo crossed the room to stand behind Uryu's chair. He placed a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder. "They respect you." 

Uryu's erasing turned a bit more aggressive than what was strictly necessary. "Respect won't rebuild our people, or prepare us to face Yhwach when he reawakens in another thousand years." He countered. 

Ichigo might have argued that they had a thousand years left to prepare, to set the Quincy onto a new, brighter path out of the shadows. But Uryu only had a hundred years tops. He wouldn't even have a handful of extra centuries to hang around the Soul Society. Those who died within the Silbern and its shadow city were still subject to the same reincarnation cycle as denizens of the Soul Society. Yhwach's ability to harness immense amounts of reishi to keep himself and his subjects in an impermanent stasis had been sealed away with him, and no remaining Quincy had the power to replicate it. Even if Uryu died in the human world, his Quincy powers would be greatly diminished in death and he'd become a liability to his people as a leader. Like with any human monarchy, Uryu would have his reign and in time would be succeeded by a new king. Seeing how splendidly such a system had worked out in the human world, Ichigo could understand Uryu's anxiety. 

Ichigo cradled his chin thoughtfully between two fingers. " _President_ Ishida," That sounded much better to Ichigo's ears. 

"Kurosaki, if you don't quit it right now, I will instruct all the Quincy to henceforth refer to you as  _Prince_ Ichigo." 

Ichigo threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. Learn to take a joke, will ya?"

"You're one to talk." Uryu sniffed. "Until recently, you were downright depressed and you've never been one for jokes in all the time I've known you. Give you a sword and send you off to war, though, and you're all smiles." 

Ichigo grimaced at that description. "I don't like war, Ishida. I don't like fighting. I just hate being helpless. The reason I'm able to smile and crack jokes now isn't that I sated some bloodlust. I'm just glad to have the power to protect others and a life where I can do that all the time. It's basically my dream job since I was like six." He paused, letting things lie a moment. The ominous cloud surrounding Uryu dissipated some. "What did you want to do? I mean, before all this, what did you draw in class when the teachers asked what you wanted to be when you grew up?" 

Uryu set aside his eraser at long last and smoothed out the paper against the desk. "Honestly," He began in a soft breath. "I always liked the idea of designing clothes." 

Ichigo nodded, once, twice. "For real?" 

Uryu glared over his shoulder at him. "Kurosaki, what have I been doing this whole time we've been sitting here?"

"Doodling?" Ignoring Uryu's growing indignation, Ichigo took his first real look at the paper he had been abusing the past half hour they'd been waiting for the girls to arrive at the Shiba estate. There was a faint outline of  - "A Victorian overcoat with a Quincy cross? Are you designing new uniforms for the Quincy?" 

"Edwardian, actually. And yes. A new Quincy society requires new Quincy attire." Uryu explained as if it were a perfectly logical line of thought. Likely noticing his friend's skepticism, Uryu added, "Right now they look like Nazis, Kurosaki." See, that was all the explanation Ichigo would ever need in regards to the Wandenreich. 

**3\. Overwrought**

Orihime was a sweet, _sweet_ girl. Brave, hardworking, and reliable, if a bit eccentric. Filled to the brim with enthusiasm, abominable cooking recipes, and empathy for others, even those who maybe - almost definitely - didn't deserve it. But by the Soul King - as a concept rather than the actual one because Aizen is, was, and will continue to be an asshole - was she a mess with goodbyes. 

"Oh, Kuchiki-chan!" Orihime blubbered helplessly. She embraced the smaller woman with all her might. A surprisingly large amount, in truth. "We didn't see each other for so long and we're saying goodbye again so soon." 

"Inoue-chan!" Rukia gasped, prying herself free from a pillowy hell. Bosom buddies they may be, it was a too much for someone Rukia's height. "Inoue-chan, we'll see each other again when Ichigo and I come up to train with Ichibe-san. And nothing says you can't visit us down here." 

"You're probably going to have to visit us a lot since Aizen apparently likes stretching his legs." Said Ichigo, pointing indiscreetly over his shoulder where their new immortal Soul King was competing in a twenty-some-way staring contest with the Soul Society's most elite. He was still clad in his Mugen wear.

Between him and Orihime, Shuatara had her work cut out for her. Poor Orihime had been flouncing around the past few months alternating between a borrowed shihakusho and the ensemble Urahara had conned her into. Between her, Chad, and Grimmjow, Urahara was never allowed to design clothes ever again as he clearly did not have the feelings of the wearer or the temperature at heart.

Speaking of Grimmjow - "Hurry up, woman!" The shirtless ex-Espada shouted from where he sat impatiently awaiting their launch back up to the royal realm. He'd been pacing the same length of yard for twenty minutes. He was leaving tread marks. "The more time you waste flapping your gums, the less time I get to train with these Zeroes." Grimmjow was intent on taking residence up in the royal realm so that he could train to fight Ichigo again someday, and Zero Squad wasn't about to turn away extra muscle after what had happened. Some of the Vizard and other Arrancar were moving upstairs as well. 

Where her friends eyed the Arrancar with mild distaste, Orihime wasn't all that bothered by her new roomie's attitude. Rukia and Ichigo couldn't understand it for the life of them, though Chad had reminded them more than once that while they were fighting on the Seireitei front, he and Orihime had fought and won the Hueco Mundo front - with Grimmjow. Heroes of another story, go figure. 

Orihime rubbed away the last of her tears. Her face remained flushed. "I guess I am being a little silly. It's not like it's for forever." She giggled. "I'm sure Aizen will be back down here to bother you all soon enough. You'll probably get sick of me being around all the time!" Oh no. Her bottom lip was trembling again. "You won't, will you?" 

On instinct, Ichigo ruffled her hair affectionately. "Hey," He said. "We'd never be sick of you, Inoue-chan. You're our friend." 

The tears made her eyes wide and shiny. "Kurosaki-kun," Her pout turned into a smile, but the flush lingered. She stepped out of his reach and adjusted her ill-fitting shihakusho. "I'll do you guys proud, promise! I'll get even stronger and keep Aizen in line, and when Yhwach comes back, he won't know what hit him." Two rapid-fire punches to the air, her flush gone in favor of that spritely twinkle in her eye. Ichigo smiled fondly upon her enthusiasm. He really would miss her no matter how long she was gone.

"Woman!" There went Grimmjow, eviscerating the mood. 

"Coming!" Orihime called back. She turned back to her friends with an apologetic smile and a little wave. "I've got to be going now. See you guys at Chad-kun's graduation party?" 

"It's a date." Said Rukia. 

Zero Squad, the Vizard, and the Arrancar piled into Kukaku's smokestack. A countdown of ten, simultaneously too slow and too fast. Ichigo and Rukia watched their dear friend disappear into the sky in a streak of silver, a falling star in reverse. 

**4\. Dog**

The flowers were withered black. Her name was obscured by a fine layer of dirt. He prayed for hers and Kaname's forgiveness. He had gone so long without visiting, and now that he finally was, there was little he could do except offer his company. Komamura sat back on his haunches and bowed his head in prayer. He'd speak aloud to them if he could. 

The grave of Kaname's friend was a lonely place. Serene and beautiful, undoubtedly, but selfishly silent. Komamura had no idea who had chosen her burial site - her husband, her family, or Kaname - but he knew they had not had her interests at heart. Someone who loved the world so dearly would not want to be so far apart from it. 

Komamura was glad when he sensed Hisagi's arrival. The new captain greeted the former with a smile and immediately set to work replacing the withered flowers and cleaning the grave marker. When he was finished, they sat together for a while, praying and enjoying the peace offered by such a remote setting. Unlike Kaname's friend, they might rejoin the rest of the world and all its bustle eventually. 

"I hope," Shuuhei spoke suddenly at the end of their visit as he rose to his feet. "I hope that they will find each other, wherever they end up." 

Komamura was reminded that the cycle did not end with the swing of a sword, that Kaname and his friend had long ago rejoined the world. It was just a matter of finding each other in it. 

**5\. Five**

"Urahara's really outdone himself," Ichigo remarked, tugging curiously at a pudgy tan cheek. His hand wandered upwards where his fingers combed through a mess of hair. The texture was a perfect match to his own though the color was a generic brown. "He even got the hair right." 

Karin craned for a view over Ichigo's shoulder, assessing the gigai laid out across the tatami mats with a fair bit of hesitancy. "I still don't see why you gave him permission to use your face as a model. I mean, right now it doesn't matter as much, but in a few years..." 

"We thought about that," Rukia admitted. "But neither one of us could imagine him as anything other than an annoying stuffed-toy or a manic Ichigo. So," A shrug. "We settled on minor changes." 

That actually got a snicker out of Karin. "Ha, _minor_." 

Yuzu, who refused to be the same room as such an unsettling sight as the empty gigai, called from the hallway, "But why do this at all? I mean, I thought the stuffed-lion was really cute." 

"Well...to be honest with you, Yuzu-chan..." Rukia trailed off awkwardly. 

"You are at least fifty percent of the reason he's been begging for this," Ichigo answered bluntly. He plowed past Yuzu's gasp of mortal offense. "Mayuri's experiments are, like, ten. And the other forty is because me and Rukia kind of feel bad for forgetting about him for over a year and Kon knows it. We figured this would more than make up for the neglect." In hindsight, Kon probably wouldn't have been so annoying if they'd paid him more attention when they hadn't been off saving the world. It was toddler logic, hence their specifications on their order to Urahara. 

"Not that we don't have some ulterior motives." Interjected Rukia as she leaned down to adjust the clothes they'd scrounged up for the gigai. "This way we have a shot at straightening out his more irritating behaviors. His new appearance will encourage others to help make an upstanding citizen of him and maybe show a little mercy when he inevitably makes a mistake. Urahara-san's succeeded more or less with Jinta that way." 

"Oh, so that's what those kids are," Karin exclaimed brightly. Her above-it-all veneer was mostly gone these days, replaced with an openness not seen since she and Yuzu were in kindergarten. Apparently, adequate explanations to the nonsense surrounding them were the cure to teenage angst all along. Such a shame the Kurosakis had no means of sharing their break-through discovery with the rest of the human population. 

"Wait, Jinta and Ururu are wha _oh!_ I think I sense Dad outside!" Yuzu burst into the room, beaming, all disquiet with the gigai gone. She and Karin were improving their spiritual abilities every day. Ichigo took pride in his sisters' progress. He wouldn't voice it aloud quite yet, however. Doing so now would just earn him a lecture from Rukia about doing something to _earn_ that pride, like taking the time to train the girls. It didn't matter to her that Ichigo was sure he'd be a terrible teacher - his learning experiences as a soul reaper were far from typical - Rukia was convinced that he not only could but _should_. 

Ichigo supposed it was only fair, though, that if he and Rukia were both going to start making an effort with Kon that he step up more for his sisters as well. 

"Looks like he found the ragdoll." Isshin had drawn the short straw at breakfast and had been on the hunt for Kon all morning while Ichigo and Rukia went to pick up the gigai in the Rukongai and transported it as discreetly as possible back to the Shiba estate. They'd had to recruit Hanataro and his knowledge of the sewer system. Needless to say, what they were doing wasn't exactly on the up-and-up. Kyoraku had already caught whiff of it already when Rukia had bribed a clerk for Central 46 to forge some papers for one Kurosaki Kon and shuffle them in with Yuzu and Karin's new files. His response had been an airy dismissal of the report. "One little rumor is no cause for a full-blown investigation. A larger body of proof would be needed to warrant such a thing. Not that I'd ever suspect a captain and a Great Noble house of such conduct anyways." Code for 'Don't get caught for I'll be expected to do something about it'. Ichigo and Rukia had not taken the warning lightly and had acted accordingly. Now that his father had Kon, they were in the clear. Ichigo let out a small sigh of relief. 

At that moment, Isshin swept into the sitting room through a window with a touch too much bravado, mod soul pill and limp lion toy held triumphantly overhead. He received no applause. What else was he expecting? 

"The things I do for this family." Isshin huffed. He flicked the mod soul over to his son.

Ichigo caught the little green pill and let it rest in the palm of his hand for a moment. It occurred to him that this was likely the last he'd ever see of it. Urahara's design was made with permanent occupancy in mind; not even an Arrancar had been able to knock the pill out of Ururu. Ichigo and Rukia shared a nostalgic look - oh, the fond memories of chasing Kon across Karakura Town and searching for roadkill to stuff him into, before finally settling on a garbage toy. Second thoughts pleaded desperately for attention in the background as Ichigo did the honors and popped the pill past cold lips.

" _AAAAAAAAAAAH!_ " Kon bolted to life, screeching more akin to a murder victim than a newborn. They had not considered the unchanging nature of his squeeze ball voice when they put it in the body of a twelve-year-old boy, complete with a healthy set of lungs. 

**6\. Meat**

It was difficult for any young person to transfer to a new school in the middle of the year. Ururu had been through it once before already when she and Jinta enrolled at a nearby middle school. It had been tough at first, as everybody had warned her. Her relation to a rabble-rouser like Jinta dragged her social standing down more than a notch. Her shy nature left her susceptible to teasing and being taken advantage of by her classmates. Her mysterious background led to whispered rumors that her family was in with the Yakuza and that she had spent her elementary days playing errand girl for gangsters. She was fresh meat. Such treatment was to be expected. 

In time, her own good behavior and excellent grades dissuaded rumors and led to her peers thinking highly of her for dealing so patiently with her foster brother's antics. Her shy nature became a point of endearment. Those who once took advantage of her, now plagued with guilt, became dear friends. 

Ururu had been sad to tell them that she was attending high school outside of Karakura Town. Jinta had given them the finger and not shown up to class for the rest of the term. He'd been far more excited to attend their new school. 

Ururu comforted herself with the knowledge that she'd survived being fresh meat once before and could survive it a second time. If a Fraccions couldn't do the job, what hope did some student soul reapers have?

"She broke my arm!" The young noble crowed in pain. He clutched his barely fractured forearm and shuffled backgrounds across the sleek dojo floors. His entourage stood stunned on the sidelines before two broke from the pack to attend their leader. 

On the opposite side of the mat, Jinta was laughing madly and the Kurosaki girls smiled satisfactorily. 

"Hey, you're the one who challenged her," Karin pointed out, hands on her hips. "You should be _thanking_ her for such a glorious ass-kicking. You're going to go down in Shin'o Academy history, kid." 

Ururu couldn't help a small smile at her defeated opponent's ashen complexion. 

**7\. Soap**

"Get in the bath." 

"It's too hot." 

There went that vein in Yumichika's forehead. "I _said_  get in the bath." 

Ikkaku rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "And I said it's too hot!" 

He really should have seen the overturned tub coming. At least then Ikkaku could have braced himself for the brief scalding, followed by the rush of cold. He was left dripping in his gooseflesh while Yumichika turned to set the wooden tub down and rummage through his toiletries.

"Great! Now I'm freezing!"

"You'd be warm right now if you just sucked it up and climbed into the tub." It was plain that Yumichika was not the least bit guilty. He squeezed a generous amount of pink liquid soap courtesy of the human world into his hand.

"I wouldn't be red as a lobster if you'd just waited a minute for the water to cool. Aren't burns a bit counterproductive to your little beautification ritual?" Ikkaku shot back. 

"Oh hush," Cold soap came in contact with Ikkaku's freshly steamed skin. His irritation was slightly assuaged by the lather Yumichika worked in circles across his back. "You're pink as a peony. You'll look fine at the ceremony. More than fine, _beautiful_." 

Ikkaku fell silent for a while, letting Yumichika work. "Is that...really okay?" 

Yumichika's hand drifted across his chest. "You're still concerned about Lieutenant Kusajishi." 

Ikkaku rolled his shoulders some. "Of course I am. She's a little girl and she's just gone and no one's looking for her anymore." They'd found her clothes and her badge. In the two months since the war's end, no body had been uncovered. Officially speaking, she was dead. But the Captain still spoke as if she were well alive and there was no need to worry. Ikkaku had worried plenty that the Captain was in denial - then he turned around and told Ikkaku that he was Lieutenant now. He insisted Yachiru was alive, yet gave away her position with little thought to her eventual return. It left Ikkaku unsettled. 

"Little girl or not, she's a lieutenant." Yumichika reminded him. "Or rather was. What's important is that the Captain doesn't seem concerned, so neither should you be. It's likely that she struck out on her own after the fun was over with the Quincy and went searching for something more interesting in the Rukongai. Perhaps she'll come back someday and challenge you for her old lieutenant's badge." 

Ikkaku chuckled throatily at that. Yumichika's lather had rendered him boneless at this point as his words had soothed his mind. "I suppose that's something to look forward to in peacetime." Life was going to get boring once clean-up was done. If it wasn't for the Captain, maybe Ikkaku and Yumichika would fuck off to the Rukongai for a few years themselves. 

Yumichika wiped off his hands and broke out a tin of buffing wax and a brush. "Indeed. Now, let's polish that cue ball of yours." Never let it be said that Squad Eleven's third seat lacked a sense of humor. 

"I hate you," Said Ikkaku. "I love you, but I also really hate you sometimes."  

**8\. Threatening**

For all Shunsui liked to tease him, Isshin didn't find Hisagi - or Abarai, or Byakuya, or Uryu, or Yamada Hanataro for that matter - all that threatening. They were _men_. And real men didn't mess with little girls. None of them had given him cause to think they might. 

Abarai clearly had some feelings for his childhood friend that needed working out. With a certain carrottop now a permanent resident of the Soul Society, the resolution to the love triangle at hand could either be on the horizon or decades off. Centuries, if the involved parties twiddle their thumbs enough. Isshin wasn't holding his breath. 

Byakuya was still mourning his wife. As a fellow widower, Isshin understood that the man might never be ready to "move on" as it were. Having known the boy since childhood, Isshin doubted either his girls would be his type. Hisana had been even more delicate than Yuzu, yet sharp and witty in ways that made Karin seem juvenile. Women like her were hard to come by. Irreplaceable, in the minds of their loved ones. 

Uryu hadn't actually ever spoken to either Yuzu or Karin, to Isshin's knowledge. A damn shame considering they were family. And all the more reason to believe nothing would ever happen there. Shunsui should bear in mind that not everybody was him and Nanao...

Isshin's third-seat, Yamada Hanataro, just didn't seem the type to moon over his captain's young daughter and then have the guts to actually make a move.

Then again, Isshin supposed no one ever expected the kid to collude with invaders and take part in a miniature rebellion at a comrade's unjust execution. Yeah, okay, maybe he would keep an eye on that one.

But Hisagi! Hisagi, Isshin could trust. He was sure of it. Hisagi did the responsible thing and backed off when Yuzu inched closer. Isshin hadn't a clue what was going on in his daughter's head - if she was even capable of  _those_ feelings - but he knew that it wasn't good for her to get overly attached to a grown man with responsibilities greater than himself. (Her mother had gotten lucky with a life-or-death fluke and an honor debt; if Isshin had any say about it, Yuzu would never be in such circumstances, so it was better she not get her hopes up about any of the single captains.) He was grateful that Hisagi had the good sense to distance himself and give Yuzu the room she'd need to flourish in her new environment. Maybe once she graduated from the Academy, they'd be able to strike up a comfortable mentor-mentee relationship. Later down the line when Yuzu finally became a woman, true friendship could blossom between them. Only if it came to that, Isshin might begin to worry. 

Till then, Isshin would focus his ire on one Hanakari Jinta. Urahara's younger brat, recently arrived at the Academy with his sister in order to replace Ichigo and company as the only half-competent hollow hunters in Karakura Town, who had been tailing Yuzu like a hungry stray for several weeks now. Isshin had faith in men. _Boys_ were a whole different story. 

"Dad!" Yuzu hissed across the table when Jinta scampered off to the bathroom to clean up the large tea spill on his uniform. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" 

**9\. Nail**

"I can't believe he's late," Tatsuki tsked as she taped shut yet another box of Ichigo's books. It was easy to forget the guy was a bookworm till you had to pack up everything he owned and found sixty percent of which was books. Tatsuki supposed if the soul reaper thing didn't work out, Ichigo could always come back and be a literature scholar or a teacher. 

"Can't you?" Asked Chizuru with a raised eyebrow, pausing mid shirt fold. Ichigo and his family didn't need any of their clothes, asking instead that they be packed up and dropped off for donation. Same went for a lot of the modern conveniences. They were free to take whatever they liked, but to be frank, there wasn't much for Tatsuki, Chizuru, Chad, or Mizuiro in the Kurosaki home. Karin and Yuzu were dainty little girls, and Ichigo and Isshin had stilts for legs. Chad was too mannerly and too stylish to sample Isshin's atrocious shirt collection. Only Keigo had the build to help himself to Ichigo's closet, and yet he was the only one of them not there. 

Tatsuki huffed at Chizuru's little retort. "No, I honestly can't believe him right now. Ichigo's kind of counting on us here. He literally can't come back and do this himself. We have to get all this stuff packed up before the Senkaimon opens tonight." It'd been hard enough to arrange a transport date. Tatsuki wanted to clear the house in one go and not have to arrange a second one. Then she could focus on entrance exams and preparing for her next tournament. 

"You think he overslept?" Chizuru had given up on folding and was just piling clothes into a box marked 'Donate'. "We were up pretty late at Inoue's." Orihime's apartment had warranted more immediate action than the Kurosaki home. She's missed her last rent payment in her absence and the landlord had been about to toss everything in the apartment. They'd worked all day and into the night to clear out her more precious belongings. Currently, Urahara's shop was bursting at the seams with boxes waiting to be transported to the Soul Society along with the Kurosakis' belongings tonight. 

"Exactly.  _We_ were _all_ up late last night. Asano's got no excuse." Tatsuki angrily emptied a cup of pens into an empty box. Ichigo had been pretty clear during their little visit to Soul Society about his intentions to hoard a century's worth of pens, staplers, and other little non-battery-reliant office amenities. Yuzu had also asked explicitly for all her good cookware, recipe books, and sewing supplies, and Karin had handed Tatsuki a check-list of sporting equipment. "If he ever shows up, I'm forcing him to be the one to meet the soul reapers when the gate opens. He can help them trolley boxes to the other side. I'm going home and taking a bath." 

Chizuru smirked wickedly. "Oooh, that sounds nice. Mind if I join?" 

Tatsuki got her square in the face with one of Ichigo's old lab manuals. "You don't take long to get back on the horse. I thought you said you were heartbroken when Orihime decided to stay with the Zero Squad?" Tatsuki didn't think she herself would be even half-okay with it for a long while. Orihime, her best friend, was even further out of reach than her old childhood friend. Not even a Soul Ticket could get one to the Royal Realm. 

Chizuru waved Tatsuki's complaints off. "I'm a girl in love, not delusional." Tatsuki watched her return to her work, this time with deceptively more care for Ichigo's shirts. "She's like her namesake now. Out of reach most of the time, except when her responsibilities permit. So romantic and tragic at once. It's fitting for her. I only wish that I was Hikoboshi. I don't know who is in this scenario or if Inoue-chan even knows that for certain, but..." A helpless shrug. A years-long crush shrugged off just like that. Pain obvious in every muscle moved. "I'm not that person for her. Never was. I can only be happy that she's found something to do with herself." 

Tatsuki found herself agreeing with that statement, on all her friends' accounts. "She always did come across as pretty aimless, didn't she? All of them did before Kuchiki showed up." Ichigo had been depressed and losing a war with the worst bits of the world, Uryu had a stick up his ass fit to string telephone wire along, and Chad had been a gentle giant trying his best to look after Ichigo's dumb ass. Orihime had been just the same. A lonely kid with a tragic backstory looking to make a connection, to find a purpose in their cold, unfeeling universe. Then Kuchiki came along and somehow they each found those things. 

"Ichigo said this is where it started, ya know?" Chizuru looked up at Tatsuki's rhetorical question. Tatsuki felt her eyes on her as she brushed her hand across the empty walls of their friend's bedroom. "He told me all about it after that big fight with Aizen. Kuchiki just stepped through his wall one night, looking for a hollow in the area. She hadn't expected to run into a human with spiritual awareness. It was a mess, and it only got messier and messier. Kuchiki ended up lending her power to him, but Ichigo took too much. That's why she had to hang around and go to our school." Tatsuki let out a snort of laughter. "She lived right in that closet there for weeks. And then that stupid stuffed toy moved in and..." Tatsuki pressed her forehead against the cool wall. She was really looking forward to that bath. "It was such a mess. The most wonderful disaster to ever happen to anyone in Karakura Town." 

"Wow, Arisawa-chan," Chizuru giggled in that 'have you been replaced by a pod-person' way. "That was kind of poetic. Are you sure you weren't a little in love with him?" 

Another snort. "Very sure." 

"Inoue-chan?" 

"No, sadly," It was so much worse than that. They were both the best friends she ever had and now they lived on a separate plane of existence. 

 _BANG!BANG!BANG!..._ _BANG!BANG!BANG!_

Tatsuki peeled herself away from the wall after the second _bang_ , temples throbbing. She and Chizuru's eyes flew around the bedroom. Chad and Mizuiro came rushing in, sliding on socked feet across the floor. The room was a few shades darker, the shadows thrown oddly. Four pairs of eyes fell on the window over Ichigo's bed and found a plank of wood dividing it, held in place by an idiot with a hammer. 

"Asano!" Thundered three of his victims. 

"Hey, guys!" His speech was slurred by the nails between his teeth. Tatsuki was going to throttle him.

"Get in here! We're packing up, not bracing for a typhoon!" 

**10\. Educated**

Sado was met at the Senkaimon by Rukia and Renji. They greeted him with enthusiastic congratulations and party favors. Sado found himself passing into the Soul Society dusted in colorful streamers and confetti. At first, Renji apologized but Rukia assured him that Sado actually quite enjoyed the gesture. It was obvious by his posture and his subtle smile. The smile became more obvious when the three arrived at the Shiba Estate and were met by a veritable barrage of confetti, glitter, and streamers and a booming "Congratulations!" from the Seireitei's upper echelons. 

Sado was swarmed by his friends and allies, patted heartily on the back, arms thrown around his shoulder in brief hugs, and his hair tousled by those tall enough to even try. There was the _pop!_ of a cork and someone shoved a glass in his hand. Head Captain Kyoraku called for a toast.

"Yasutora-san, though we started off on the wrong foot, I'm more than glad to celebrate this momentous occasion with you. None of us thought we would be here two years ago, I'm sure," The Head Captain cast a meaningful look across the banquet hall. They were an odd bunch, certainly. Soul reapers, former ryoka, Vizards, Fullbringers, Quincy, royal guards, and a captain-turned-traitor-turned-obnoxious-god. All holding their drinks up in a toast to a human boy's graduation from high school. "But I am also certain that none of us regret the decisions that got us here. We're alive somehow, and that's something to drink to." The banquet hall erupted with applause and 'here, here's. Drinks were knocked back and the second round was poured by passing servers. 

After escaping a cluster of already tipsy lieutenants, Sado found a seat on some colorful cushions in a corner with his friends. Ichigo embraced him with a wide grin, and Orihime practically jumped into his arms. Uryu's smile was subdued but accompanied by a delicately wrapped gift that Sado set in his lap as he sank down into his own cushion. His friends gave him a minute to adjust before laying into him with questions about his time back home. It left him feeling a bit self-conscious, in all honesty.

Before he left, Sado had born witness to Uryu's coronation as the new Quincy King and had celebrated Rukia's captaincy. Ichigo had also been named a captain since they'd last seen each other. And Orihime had joined Zero Squad and taken up residence in the Soul Palace with the Aizen, Grimmjow, and the Vizard. In that same period of time, Sado had graduated high school and been accepted to his university of choice. He was proud of his accomplishments, but they paled against those of his friends and he wondered if perhaps he should've stayed in the Soul Society as well. Ichigo still needed a lieutenant, after all, and Lady Kukaku had mentioned wanting to build up the Fullbringers into a legitimate branch of the Seireitei's military structure along the lines of the Kido Corps. It wasn't as if Sado lacked options in the Soul Society. 

"Ah~! I'm so jealous, Chad-kun." Orihime was a bit drunk. She'd made the mistake of going to visit Matsumoto before the party started according to Ichigo, who'd retrieved her from the Squad Ten barracks. "I wish I could've finished school. My brother always wanted me to go to university. To be better than our parents, ya know?"

"Inoue-chan, you've already done way better than your parents," Ichigo assured the weepy drunk girl.

She giggled, fussing with her hair. "I guess guarding the Soul King is still a lot better than prostitution and petty theft! Even if Aizen isn't the greatest boss in the world. Thank you, Kurosaki-kun!" 

"Inoue-chan..." Uryu whispered, carefully prying her fingers from her drink, one at a time. "I think you've had enough." 

Rukia quickly replaced the liqueur with a cup of water. "Here, Inoue-chan" She said. "And Ichigo is right. In my opinion, you've all done splendidly. You should be proud, Chad-kun." 

Uryu adjusted his glasses. "Even so, I must admit it irks me as well to not have finished high school _and_  have lost my class presidency and my number one spot in the class rankings." 

"You're a king, Ishida." Ichigo deadpanned. 

"Hurt pride is rarely reasonable, Kurosaki." 

"I agree with Ishida-kun," Orihime chirped. "What I'm feeling right now is pride in Chad-kun! He accomplished something none of us ever will. He went out, won a war, and then marched straight back to school like a real trooper. And here soon, he'll be going to university." She sighed dreamily. "Sounds so amazing, I'm so jealous!" 

Suddenly, Sado found himself with a lapful of weepy drunk Orihime. "Chad-kun! You have to do well in school, for all of us who couldn't go!" 

Sado adjusted the girl as gently as possible without putting either of them in an awkward position. "Excuse me?" He intoned softly.

Orihime reached over and yanked Rukia and Uryu into the huddle against their protests. Ichigo, mercifully spared, deigned only to scoot closer to the friendship pile with a wry smile. "Promise us, Chad-kun! Promise you'll get your education! The rest of us won't ever get the chance to go back to school or do regular human things again, so you have to do those things for us! Live your human life to the fullest!" Orihime cried, drawing the whole banquet hall's attention. Sado avoided their stares out of embarrassment. 

"Inoue-chan, please..." 

"Oh," Orihime managed such a sad little sound. "I'm being clingy..."

Uryu and Rukia managed to pry themselves free. Sado set Orihime back onto her own cushion. She looked sufficiently mortified at herself. Sado reached out and placed his large hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him with confusion that he met with a smile. "There's no need to get upset, Inoue-chan. You have my word."

His friend's eyes glittered with tears as she threw herself forward for another bear hug. "Oh, Chad-kun~!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> As some notes on the prompts:  
> Cheerful - References Ichigo's outward persona now that he's in a better place in his life leading his squad to believe he's some happy-go-lucky cheerful guy and to not suspect that Ichigo indeed understands despair and has suffered some rather severe depression in his life. I also wanted to show that squad three is probs still collectively traumatized from the last couple years and it will take a while to warm up to Ichigo and truly trust him.  
> Overwrought - I refuse to forget about Hueco Mundo. Since it was hardly touched upon after Ichigo left for the Soul Society, I have decided that Orihime and Chad had their whole own epic saga going on there and that they were badass and now they have a ton of Arrancar pals.  
> Five - Made with the idea that Kon was becoming the fifth member of the Kurosaki family when he was put in his new gigai. He's now Kurosaki Kon, "little brother" to Ichigo, Yuzu, and Karin Kurosaki who simply went mysterious unmentioned until that point. Don't question it, Central 46. Side note, before I got this prompt I toyed with the idea of letting him take over Ichigo's identity in the human world. But I'd be a monster to unleash such a menace so I did this instead.  
> Soap - Yumichika and Ikkaku are totally a thing. Also, the water wasn't that hot. Ikkaku was just being a baby about getting prettied up for his lieutenant ceremony (these things don't usually have ceremonies, as seen with Renji, but who actually thinks Yumichika wouldn't at least have a party for the occasion?).  
> Threatening - I don't think Isshin would care for someone like Jinta pursuing either Yuzu or Karin. Not that Jinta is evil or anything, it's just with his own immaturity matched up with Karin and Yuzu's brands of immaturity, someone is bound to get hurt somehow. As they tend to in teen relationships.  
> Nail - Basically closing up shop symbolically at the place where Bleach began, signaling the end of Ichigo and co's journey. At least for the next thousand years till Yhwach wakes up again...  
> Educated - I feel bad that Orihime spent so much time being upset in this chapter, but to be fair a girl showing her emotions doesn't make her weak and she has every reason to be upset in these circumstances. Her life did take a very sudden and dramatic turn!
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! Happy New Year! Please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. M.O.T.H.E.R.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Yuzu-centric chapter.
> 
> That took for fucking ever to write. Ugh. 
> 
> Please Enjoy!

**M** issing

They got the map from an academy textbook. That first morning they set out on their search, Yuzu tucked it away in her old human world schoolbag. Between her bag and Karin's, the sisters had a compass, a photo, a persuasive amount of money, lunch for three, and two Asauchi. Fourth Years at Shin'o Academy now, adults as far as the Seireitei was concerned in spite of their appearances, there was nothing their family, let alone their instructors or the dorm matron could do to stop them from venturing out into the Rukongai.

That first morning, they set out with anxious smiles and hopeful hearts. They returned the next morning, having spent the night at a dingy roadside inn, broke, dejected and sore footed. They'd spent the better part of the day before wandering the dirt streets of the first western district, showing their mother's photo to anyone who didn't look like a murderer. Besides a few senile old folks who were _certain_ she lived just the next street over, no one had ever seen such a woman around their district. Their next outing, they left through the South Gate, armed with flyers. Even though their questioning proved no more fruitful than the last time, now they could leave something with the soul or staple a flyer to a nearby fence. 

Months passed with no success. The sisters worked their way counter-clockwise through the Rukongai, asking questions, passing out flyers. Ururu and Jinta eventually joined them, allowing them to cover more ground. After a while, their search took them so far from the Seireitei that their outings were marked by days. They could no longer use their weekends off from classes for their search and were forced to wait for longer holidays to pick up from where they left off. Classes did little to distract Yuzu from the anxiety that plagued her during these prolonged in-between periods. 

It wasn't all disappointment, however.

The Rukongai had a quiet, rural charm. At times, it reminded her a lot of her favorite manga _Inuyasha_. Yuzu had heard the outer districts were a different story, but she found the district residents to be good people and inevitably befriended some over the course of her and her sister's longer searches. Many were interesting souls with interesting stories, having lived and died in interesting periods of history. A single district could host thousands of souls from across the centuries. The sisters and their friends had been poured tea by a Meiji Era samurai who'd lived to see the fall of his centuries-old way of life. They'd shared a wagon with a scholar from the Heian Era who'd attended Imperial court and witnessed many intrigues. In the spring of their fifth year, they defended a merchant who in his human life had traveled as far as Sri Lanka against bandits. And that summer, they'd been hosted for the night by two famous poetesses who'd opened an inn together in their afterlife. The students always returned to Shin'o Academy with a story to regale their classmates with.

The resulting popularity was not unappreciated, but it did not dull the sting that Yuzu felt with each failed expedition. 

One year passed. The districts only grew larger and more populous as they strayed father from the Seireitei. Crowded, destitute streets replaced the idyllic pasture of districts fifteen through thirty. Travel times only grew greater. Two days by wagon became five, then seven. Eight if the weather was poor. Tolls grew heftier, more than Yuzu and Karin's monthly allowances combined. They were forced to hold off on their excursions till their finances were in order, till their schedules allowed for it. Even then, the roads became ever more dangerous. Too dangerous for even three Shin'o Academy Fifth Years once Ururu graduated and could no longer join them. 

Another year passed, and in that time they only managed to comb two more districts under the careful watch of Ganju and his gang. Their final year began at Shin'o Academy and their calendar would only permit for one excursion that year. Yuzu was buried up to her neck in coursework, zanpakuto training, and indecision. What she once could ignore in favor of schooltime shenanigans and their careful search became an unavoidable daily battle. 

The fact of the matter was that she hadn't been happy at Shin'o Academy since the start - perhaps that's why she spent as much time as she could far away from it. Life as a soul reaper just wasn't for her. It didn't suit her as it did her siblings. Thrill at a well-struck blow in combat was absent in Yuzu, as was that same drive to protect by the most physical means. Her way was softer, less obvious, and not the sort Shin'o Academy fostered outside of instruction in medical kido. Soul Reapers were soldiers. Yuzu didn't want that life and now it distracted her from the only thing in the world she truly did want.

But her pride, the disappointment of her instructors, the whispers that had trailed her all six years she'd walked the Academy corridors - it all urged her forth to prove them wrong. Yuzu gave herself an important reminder every day when the visceral urge to pack her bags and her zanpakuto's nudging voice warred: _If you give up now, they'll think that they were right about you._ Yuzu had worked too hard for her family's sake, sacrificed too much, to tolerate being perceived as the weak link now. 

The only answer was to work all the harder. Not for the sake of graduation, but for her real goal in life. The day Yuzu learned her zanpakuto's name and presented her instructor and her entire zanjutsu class with twin iron fans was also the day she formally resigned from Shin'o Academy. She packed up her dorm room and was escorted back to the Shiba Estate with her head held high. It was now obvious to all she passed through those halls on that final march that she left not due to a lack of ability but rather a lack of inclination. The very next day, she set out into the Rukongai to search for her mother on her own, determined to return in time for Karin's graduation. 

Yuzu would despair over her own tardiness for months following her return home. There were never meant to be two empty seats at the ceremony. 

* * *

 **O** ld

Growing up with such a humungous goofball, it was easy for the Kurosaki kids to forget that their father was, objectively speaking, handsome. When single patients flirted through their check-ups and over the appointment book at the clinic's front counter with the man, it mattered little which sibling was watching the spectacle unfold. They were all equally baffled. Ichigo's shifts at the clinic were few and far between, but he had a way of gently discouraging their clientele from getting their hopes up about their father re-entering the dating pool - usually by strategically name-dropping their mother and inducing one of Isshin's gushfests. Karin once suggested that the patient come back to get their head checked but never again after the jab spectacularly backfired and the woman made an appointment for the very next day. Even Yuzu, the resident Daddy's Girl, had never been able to fathom an adult woman seeing her father as a romantic object. He was nothing like the suave cool guys or even the nerdy, down-to-earth types cast as leads in her favorite TV dramas growing up. He was very much one of Midoriko's rambunctious anime dads who remained single throughout the series run. 

Yuzu's opinion on the matter only shifted the tiniest bit when she learned the truth of everything, and only the slightest bit more once their family jumped planes of existence. It turned out her father was super strong and important, a great noble from what was, in essence, a different dimension, and that uniform was flattering to boot! Yuzu suddenly understood her mother and her decisions a whole lot better after coming to the Soul Society. 

The flipside of this was that she also understood her father's would-be suitors better. After all, her father was super strong and important, a noble of great stature, and handsome in his captain's uniform, which he wore all the time now instead of his ridiculous human world shirts. Yuzu wasn't surprised when nobles started showing up at the Shiba estate, requesting meetings with her father, almost always bringing along a pretty woman done up in silks. She was only upset that her father didn't really have a good reason to turn any of them away. 

"After Kaien died, things were difficult," Rukia had explained to Yuzu and Karin in tender undertones one night when they were still staying at her house. "House Shiba was put in a precarious position. His siblings were powerless children, dependant on a young uncle. Their only social capital was your father's captaincy, and the hope among their silent allies at the time was that they'd acquire more with a good marriage. But Isshin took his time choosing a bride for himself and a groom for his niece, scorning many in the process. Then your father outright disappeared. That was the final straw for House Shiba." 

Rukia had then tried to assure the girls that their family's position was far more secure now, as the soul society was different and getting better all the time. Their brother was powerful enough for all their sakes, she said, but still...A marriage would make them more friends among the powerful nobility, and safer by extension. Her father would look deranged, turning them down left and right as he had before. What did the nobles care if Yuzu and Karin spent every school holiday out searching for their mother? 

"My sister Teru studied at Shin'o Academy for some time, so she's no weakling, My Lord. While in attendance, she excelled in her medical courses and was President of the calligraphy club. Her musical abilities are also sublime - she could teach your daughters a thing or two about song and dance and to play several different instruments." That last remark by Lord Ieyasu was accompanied by a glance in Yuzu and Karin's direction. They lounged purposefully on the opposite end of the tea room as their father and their guests, their obstinate excuse being that the sun out on the engawa felt nice. They would've taken their tea in another room altogether, but...Yuzu would admit she was nosy where Karin would deny it to her dying breath. 

Her sister scoffed into her teacup. Ieyasu hadn't so much made conversation with their father as he had listed out every possible positive attribute of his elder sister. Even Yuzu thought it a bit much. If Teru was really so 'sublime' then her brother shouldn't have to yammer on desperately about her good grades while she sat as silent as she was pretty beside him. 

Yuzu chanced a look over her shoulder at the woman. She was a classic Japanese beauty, with all the talent and poise and then some expected of one according to her brother. Her hair was so long, and midnight black. Her skin was pale as milk glass. Her perfect posture made Yuzu want to sit up straighter, and her grace was evident in how softly she set aside her teacup. Unbidden, Yuzu found herself comparing this woman's beauty to her mother's own. _How could Dad ever consider marrying someone so different?_ She asked herself and then felt horribly guilty when Lady Teru caught her eye and smiled sweetly. 

She really was in no position to judge, Yuzu reminded herself. Teru was just doing what was expected of her as a noblewoman, and she didn't seem at all a bad person. The way Ieyasu described her and how she carried herself, her father really had no excuse to reject her outright as he had the others. Not even the ones he'd sent home for minor offenses like a dislike of chickpeas and an ignorance of human world sports drinks. Teru had eaten and drank everything set before her and even hummed her enjoyment of it. She even caught an old manga reference and chuckled appropriately. Yuzu's father may just have to court this one...

"Forgive my presumptuous attitude in asking this," Lord Ieyasu smiled hopefully. "Will you consider returning the courtesy of tea at our estate in the near future, My Lord?" 

Yuzu and Karin watched their father unabashedly now as Ieyasu all but prostrated himself across the tea table in anticipation. By contrast, Teru's back was ramrod straight, as if bracing herself for a blow. Isshin reached up and stroked his goatee thoughtfully. Yuzu's heart stuttered - he'd never done that with any of the others. Not even that pushy young widow who'd come by. 

When a full minute passed without an answer, Ieyasu squeaked out an alternative. "Dinner, perhaps?" 

Isshin snapped his fingers with a grin and Yuzu felt her stomach bottom-out. Karin had half crowed her dissent when their father exclaimed, "I've got it! I'm too old!" 

The tea room fell silent. Then, "Excuse me, My Lord?" Ieyasu was certifiably baffled. It was the first time he, Yuzu, and Karin had been on the same page since his arrival. 

Isshin happily explained, "The excuse is all mine. I can't court your lovely sister here because I'm just too old for her. I mean, what is she? Fifty, sixty? Hardly a century at most. Meanwhile, I'm an old goat widower sitting at about one hundred and seventy-two. I need a lady with more experience." 

Ieyasu didn't take the blatant lies lying down. "B-but, My Lord, I had heard your wife was - was a hu-"

" _Experience_ , Ieyasu." The twins cringed at the accompanying waggled brow. Karin started rolling up a sleeve, if only half-heartedly. 

"My Lord, I-" 

"Expeeeeeeeeerience." 

The girls were lulled to ease by the ridiculous back-and-forth, as in the background of it one could clearly see Lady Teru's ever-diminishing attraction to their father in her eyes, like a fuel gauge on a car drifting steadily into the red empty zone. Karin let her sleeve slip back down her arm and sat back to watch their father drive their guest to madness with a smirk. Yuzu admired her mother's resolve in deciding to love such a ridiculous guy as her father. Not many other young women could hope to imitate. 

* * *

 **T** each

Kon in a gigai was a bigger handful than Kon in a lion plushie - in more than a physical sense. 

"We deeply apologize." Yuzu said solemnly, bowing low to the offended parties and forcing her little brother to do the same. She just about had his nose smooshed against the white tile of the Seireitei streets. They stayed down there till he stopped squirming. Only then did Yuzu climb to her feet and let Kon do the same. In spite of the display of remorse, the bathhouse's owner still glared furiously at the both of them. Yuzu contained a sigh as she dug out the money she'd grabbed on her way out the door to resolve the matter. 

"Please, accept this as a show of our regret at this incident. House Shiba assures you that this behavior is not condoned and will be dealt with accordingly. It won't ever happen again, sir." Said Yuzu as she presented the hefty bribe. The owner's glare vanished along with the money from Yuzu's hand. 

"Well, I suppose boys will be boys." The owner mumbled before hurriedly disappearing back inside the bathhouse. Their bald head popped out between the curtains just once more with a raisin face and a stern warning "not to come back unless you got more where this came from." 

"Don't worry, he won't be back ever!" Yuzu assured the sour old man. Her smile disappeared as soon as he did.  

Kon rounded on her in an instant. "Like you could stop me! I wasn't even doing anything that bad! The bald guy is the _real_ pervert if he confused what I was doing with-" 

Yuzu silenced her toy-turned-brother was a sharp whack from the hilt of her Asuchi. Kon crumpled to the ground as if he were still made of fluff and fabric. She watched him writhe in overwrought agony and let out the sigh she'd contained earlier at the sight. Once upon a time, she went out of her way not to discipline Kon as the rest of the world did. Now she was in agreement with her siblings and Rukia in saying that Kon was pretty hopeless. The mod soul's ethics began and ended with 'no killing ever if you can help it'. Wrapping his head around social decorum like not peeking into the women's bath seemed unusually difficult for him. Which could only mean he wasn't even trying. 

"I don't get it," Yuzu muttered as she took hold of his arm and dragged the smaller child up to his feet. "Jinta and Ururu aren't this dense." 

Kon quit his weeping to shoot her an angry pout. "Hey, is that any way to talk about your friends? And you've got the nerve to call _me_ a brat?" 

Yuzu gave him a reprimanding ear pinch as they started off in the direction of home. "I meant that Jinta and Ururu aren't like you _at all_. And they were raised by Urahara. What's your excuse?" 

Kon scoffed but mercifully quit dragging his feet. Yuzu loosened her grip on his arm some in turn. "According to the teachers at that damn nobles' school you guys have me going to, none of us Kurosaki kids are well-behaved because our dad is a deserter and our mom was a Quincy who up and died on us." 

Yuzu half-smiled at the familiar statement. "You punched an instructor for that if I remember right." She'd been called out of class at the Academy to deal with it, just as this time she'd excused herself from afternoon tea with friends to discipline her younger brother after receiving a hell butterfly from the district patrolman. She may have bought Kon more treats than the school would've liked following the former incident. Compensation for doing what he didn't have to. 

"I don't kill, but some folks just need a busted mouth," Kon replied with his favorite tough-guy bravado. Even so, his hand found Yuzu's as they walked. "And she was supposed to be my mom, too, so...it would've been strange if I did nothing." 

Their charade with Kon was a careful production. Enough of Ichigo's soul reaper friends didn't know a lot about his family to begin with, so no harm done there. But acting like Kon had always been part of their lives and Kon doing the same with them could be difficult. Sitting down for dinner together and bickering among themselves, watching Ganju and Kukaku's fireworks from the roof, or pinching Kon's ear for being a brat - that all came easily. It was stuff like Mom that was difficult to play pretend with. Sometimes, it didn't feel right.

Kon never had a mother - a father and siblings were still very new to him - and it showed in his tendency to run off on his own and get into trouble, never thinking to ask permission or check in with others who might worry about him. Said to be the youngest Kurosaki, however, it was little wonder that no one in the Seireitei really questioned his brattiness. His worst behaviors - giving his teachers lip, skipping class to peep on hot springs, and acting out for attention - could be explained away by Masaki's absence. She would've been in his life the least of all his siblings.  

Yuzu was at a loss with Kon. She was the middle child but until recently the only younger sibling she had was just nine minutes her junior. Nine minutes that only mattered when bickering over who got first dibs on the remote or the morning shower. Yuzu had cooked wholesome meals for her family and washed their dirty socks, but she'd never had to step up for Karin the way she did with Kon when her dad and brother were busy. Disciplining Kon, modeling acceptable adult behavior for him, being even less of a kid than she'd been allowed by circumstances for the sake of Kon's adjustment and growth - it was draining. 

Yuzu reached over and patted the top of Kon's head, trying to fix his ever messy hair. "Since she was your mother, too, you shouldn't go around acting in ways that'd disappoint her. A good son wouldn't do that to his mother." She scolded him lightly. 

Her little brother fussed away her hand. "I didn't ask to be anyone's son!" He griped loudly, then in a mutter, "I asked for a big buff body with cool battle scars." 

"You don't deserve it," Yuzu replied, affectionately mussing his mop of hair back into a crow's nest. Over his vehement protests, she added, "Besides, I didn't ask to be anyone's daughter. No one does. But if we're lucky enough to have a parent who looks after us well and teaches us right from wrong, loves us unconditionally, then we should repay that by doing our best to be good people. Our behavior reflects back on them after all." 

Kon gave up on fighting her off then. Yuzu let her hands slide from his hair to cup his chubby cheeks.

"Are _you_ disappointed in me?" For once, Kon's voice was small. 

Yuzu told the truth and watched Kon's eyes soften. Despite their artificial nature, they had the same effect as Ichigo's in his more vulnerable moments. "Sorry, I guess." He mumbled to the street. Even as she accepted the apology, Yuzu hated that it was directed towards _her_. She wanted badly for her mom. More than usual. 

* * *

 **H** ouse

Just like the human world, the Soul Society had a variety of marriage customs.

There were your quick and quiet courthouse weddings where a Central 68 clerk said some words and signed your papers and had you out the door in minutes.

There were the raucous countryside weddings of the farmers who supplied the Seireitei with food where sake was shared by the happy couple by the light of a full moon. Harvest moons were preferable. 

There were the quaint Rukongai weddings before beleaguered District Governors, a distant cousin of courthouse ceremonies and officer ceremonies officiated by captains. All of which were usually followed by as abundant a dinner as the happy new couple could afford to host at their residence. 

There was the quiet exchange of not-quite-official vows between longtime companions in the afterlife before their friends and makeshift families. These were more common in the lawless districts of the outer Rukongai, whose administrators spent more time within the Seireitei's walls than in their district. 

There were the weddings that never happened as common-law kicked in and decided Ikkaku and Yumichika were husbands now.

And of course, there were the big fat fancy weddings of the nobility which were more a duty to their station than about personal expression. Ichigo and Rukia were never going to get away with a small ceremony on a far-off hill. 

The venue, the attire, the guest list, the vows, the officiator, the _flowers_ \- per tradition, all these and more were out of the frustrated couple's hands and in those of their heads of house. Which, all things considered, could've gone a whole lot worse...

Byakuya decided Kuchiki manor's grandest banquet hall would host the reception, and plotted the path the bride and groom would take there from the manor's private shrine. It was the same path his grandparents, his parents, and he and Rukia's sister had all walked at their own weddings. There was minimal accommodation for the more extensive list of guests who might want to view the couple on their fateful march - Byakuya refused to bow before the demands of others and sentenced almost a hundred guests to the purgatory of the eastern estate lawn. Yuzu sensed that the gesture was more than sentimental.

In her twelve years in the Seireitei, she'd learned a thing or two about how the nobility operated and just how big a deal Rukia's adoption was. Her walking the same path as her adoptive ancestors during her wedding to another great noble was symbolic of the fact that she was not a lesser Kuchiki just because she came from the Rukongai. This, along with her captaincy, would finally silence her detractors among the nobility. It was no wonder that Rukia was so appreciative. 

("Brother~!" Rukia cried before pouncing across the table. Yuzu's eyes had just about popped out of her head and she dared not blink. She'd never seen Byakuya hug anyone before, and she doubted she ever would again.) 

The wedding clothes her brother commissioned were nothing to sneeze at either. Seamstresses and their apprentices worked around the clock for months to prepare Rukia's bridal kimono. Yuzu glimpsed it at several fittings leading up to the ceremony. Simply put, it was a work of art. Rukia looked near angelic at her fittings, so Yuzu could only dream of the finished product's effects. 

Ichigo meanwhile drowned in their grandfather's traditional Shiba groomswear. Shiba Hikaru had apparently been a much beefier man than any of his grandsons and Kukaku had to put a tailor to work so her cousin wouldn't look like a total shrimp at his own wedding. Ichigo refused to wear Kaien's wedding clothes, even though they probably would've fit fine without a stitch of work. No one faulted him for it. Lady Ochiyo had already made the mistake of comparing Rukia to Miyako. 

That nearly got the woman booted off the mile-long guest list altogether. It encompassed about half the Seireitei, more humans than any of noble had seen in one room before, and ninety-nine percent of the Royal Realm (Aizen, the other one percent, would show up exactly because no one wanted him there). To be disinvited would've been to socially slit Ochiyo's throat and Yuzu was too kind to let that happen. So Ochiyo got to watch the vow exchange live with all her friends despite her slip up - from the edge of eastern lawn with binoculars. 

The vows would be the standard of high nobility - omitting any mention of the Soul King this time around - and would be recited in the presence of both a venerated monk and a high-standing judge of Central 68's lower courts. Head Captain Kyoraku's offer to officiate was respectfully - but very _very_ firmly - denied. His and his lieutenant's little boke and tsukkomi routine could wait till the reception. 

Besides, they hardly needed more pink in the wedding. Plum blossoms were scattered liberally across the grounds and marked the wedding procession's path this way and that way across the estate.

When not basking in each other's glow, Rukia and Ichigo looked ready to swan-dive off Sokyoku Cliff. Yuzu smiled thinly at their tired faces when she caught them casting dark glowers at their wedding planners. It wasn't like they were the only ones suffering, and really, in the end, they would come out with the biggest benefit.

Yuzu almost agreed with Karin.

 _"Just_ elope _if it's such a pain. It'd sure save us a lot of trouble planning everything_ for you. _"_

Sadly, their father's misadventures in matchmaking weren't earning them any new friends in the Seireitei and it was probably for the best that their family just endure the pomp and circumstance as best they all could. Besides, a huge coconut cake with chocolate dressing, a six-piece band, and a ten course feast at the reception weren't exactly a bed of nails...Yuzu quickly wiped her mouth, not wanting to ruin her work with drool. 

"Ah, great! You're home tonight!" She turned her head to find Kukaku marching into her bedroom, trailed by the House Shiba's go-to seamstress, Mao. "Time to get you fitted. I also have some protocol to go over with you about your role in the ceremony, so be prepared to take notes." 

Yuzu set aside the missive she'd been writing to Captain Hisagi and climbed to her feet. Mao and her assistant swarmed her like busy bees. 

"My role?" Yuzu stammered as she found herself being stripped of her housecoat and left in thin pajamas. Throughout the final frenzy of her brother's wedding, Yuzu had been assured of one thing: that she and Karin didn't have to worry about anything on the day of except looking their very best. Yuzu already had a kimono picked out and everything. Dark yellow like an autumn leaf with an elegant crimson print - because she'd been wanting to look more adult lately. Kukaku's announcement was worse than sudden, it was borderline rude and Yuzu had half a mind to tell her so. 

Kukaku plopped down at Yuzu's work table without a semblance of a care. She pulled a juice box, one of House Shiba's favorite human world imports, out from her empty sleeve and stabbed at it as measuring tape snaked across Yuzu's waist and arms. "Sorry about this." She finally said after a long snip. "I'd thought it would be my responsibility but your dad can be a sucker for tradition at the strangest times. He seems to think it's really important that you do it as Ichigo's closest female relative." 

"Do what?" Yuzu had attended a number of weddings in her twelve years in the Seireitei. She'd seen all manner of customs, legal and cultural, from across time and place, often intermixed with human traditions. What Kukaku and her father would have of her exactly, she hadn't a clue. Kukaku could be about to ask her to play look-out for a bridal kidnapping for all she knew. 

Kukaku set aside her shriveled up juice box but kept the straw for chewing. She'd recently quit smoking. "It's usually a mother's duty, you see." And Yuzu understood why it had taken so long for someone to speak up about this. Her failure to find her mother in the Rukongai still stung like a fresh burn years later. She had wanted to try again when Ichigo and Rukia had gotten engaged, but Karin had taken her aside and begged her not to. 

_"No more empty seats. Okay?"_

There was no place on the dais for the mother of the groom. 

"What am I supposed to do exactly?" Yuzu asked with a tight smile. Because this was just one more thing on a skyscraping stack of things she did in her mother's place. She could only hope it was something she'd be happy to do, that her mother would like to see done, that Mom would be grateful to Yuzu for doing in her stead.

Kukaku answered around the plastic straw between her lips. "In the simplest terms possible, you're to formally welcome Rukia to the family after the shrine ceremony is complete. You'll present her a special gift - probably a tanto since she's not the dainty type who'd want a fan or comb - engraved with our clan insignia, all while giving this pretentious speech penned by our founder a thousand-some years ago, and then give Rukia a big ole smile or hug to assure everyone you don't plan to poison her out of disapproval for the match once she moves under our roof."

Apprehension left Yuzu in a great sigh of relief - she'd gladly make it clear that she had no plans to poison Rukia, all day, any day.

Mao snapped at Yuzu to fix her posture. Kukaku snapped right back at the seamstress that she wasn't paying her to bite her baby cousin's head off. Yuzu smiled thanks over the grimacing old woman's head. 

* * *

 **E** vil

There came a day when Kurosaki Masaki had been dead for longer than she had been alive. Absent longer than she'd ever been around. And that small percentage of time that she did manage to spend on earth with her husband and children only grew smaller with the passage of time. On the twin's thirty-fifth birthday - it felt more like a sweet sixteen because she found in the mirror that she finally looked it, finally looked like her...The pain of that realization drove Yuzu to fish out an old calculator from her human world school supplies in a fit of masochism and run the numbers. 

Just 14.2% 

In a pie chart of her life, that thin slice was the only part where she had a mom. It was the most useless bit of math she had ever done - right up there with quadratic equations - and it dogged her the rest of the day as she and Karin were showered with gifts by friends, family, and suck-up nobles. Yuzu tried her best to push the numbers away. To focus on '35' and not '14'. She just about succeeded till she spotted her father at the back of the banquet hall. 

Her goofball father, who for the past thirty-four years hadn't given his darling daughters an inch of personal space on their birthday for fear of neglecting his fatherly duty to smother them with love, sat about as far from the girls as he could in the banquet room. Stranger still, he didn't look miffed at all like Ichigo had reprimanded him for hovering or drunk or even especially grave like a dire situation had arisen with his squad and he'd have to leave at a moment's notice. No, Isshin was lax against some fluffy cushions with a single drink and hardly a flush to his cheeks, conversing quietly with a noblewoman. Strangest of all, he looked happy to be doing so. 

The noblewoman wasn't an unfamiliar face around the Shiba estate. She often visited in the company of younger women and their guardians. Aunt Hotaru, they called her, because she was somehow everyone's aunt. Even Kukaku and Ganju's, but not Yuzu's or her father's somehow. Once, maybe she only had a handful of nieces and nephews. But centuries passed and those nieces and nephews had children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of their own. It was simpler to just call her aunt rather than waste your breath on a half dozen 'greats'.

Kukaku explained that Hotaru had lived to see so many generations thanks to her amazing spiritual pressure. Her not becoming a soul reaper was said to be the greatest travesty of her day.

Six hundred years had passed since then, and Lady Hotaru hardly looked a day over fifty. She had not greyed with age. She had silvered and sharpened and smiled strangely. The set of her shoulders, the delicate pinning of her hair, even the wrinkles around her eyes were elegant. Yet that tiny smile was almost wicked. Reserved but far from mild. Lady Hotaru wasn't beautiful the way Matsumoto was - or Inoue was, or even in the traditional way Rukia and Lt. Ise were. She was old, older than Yuzu's father, and she looked it unashamedly. That in itself was a kind of beauty.

At the moment Yuzu spotted them sipping drinks together in a corner, a childish fear wriggled its way into her heart. She shoved it to the back of her head instead along with the math from that morning. It worked about as well as closing the door on an overstuffed freezer. Before long, the door would swing open and those terrible thoughts would plop at her feet like packs of frozen peas where she couldn't ignore them. 

After her birthday, Yuzu wasn't often home. She had work to do with the Central 92 and in the Rukongai with Hisagi that kept her well away. She found herself more often spending the night at an inn or at the barracks than in her own bed. Her spare time was spent visiting her father and siblings at their respective squads, or wandering the shopping districts of the Seireitei with friends.

The seasons turned and the nobles opened their tea rooms to musicians, poets, and incorrigible gossips alike as the twins' birthday once again neared. Yuzu came home just long enough to dress for the occasion, per usual of her, and headed over to the Kojima manse to network; she needed allies for her upcoming appeal to the Central body. 

Yuzu was greeted by the other nobles with greater force than even her first meeting with them years ago at the Kuchiki Estate. They swept over her in a wave of silk and finery. 

"Oh, Lady Yuzu, say it isn't so!" Begged Lady Atsuko. The woman was pale as a ghost ~ that was to say, one still stuck in the human world. 

"What's so?" Asked Yuzu evenly, trying to detach the woman's lacquered talons from the front of her kimono without making a bigger scene. 

"That he's spoken for! That the witch has got him!" Lady Ochiyo butted in. She was as flush as her companion was pale. She slapped her fan against her palm like she'd caught herself reaching for a sweet. "Soul King strike me down! I knew I should've been more persistent!" 

"Who?" Yuzu wasn't sure if she meant the 'he' or 'the witch'. 

"Mine own aunt! To betray me like this! May Yama punish her for this in the next life!" Ochiyo wailed. Her friends fluttered around her, whispering reassurances and validation for her many, many tears like sycophantic birds. Yuzu found herself developing a sudden claustrophobia. Her fingers tingled with concentrated spiritual energy, giving her the strength to finally peel away the older woman with ease and give the gaggle a wide breadth. 

"She's my aunt, too!" Lord Ieyasu exclaimed across the room like it was a competition. "See if she finds an invitation to my sister's recital _now!_ " 

"The witch won't see my dining room for the next century!" Another nobleman huffed. 

"To Hell with her flower arranging class!" Another bellowed. 

"I...don't follow." Yuzu startled at a gentle stroke of her cheek by none other than Lady Mana, Head of the Great Noble House of Naraka. This had to be a big deal, now. The woman only ever left her personal spa for the juiciest bits of Seireitei drama. She was a picky vulture. 

"Of course you don't, dear." Lady Mana said with a vicious twinkle in her scarlet eyes. "For an esteemed captain to fall for the wiles of such a _snake_ and be duped. No girl should suffer to see her father _so misused_ \- and by a woman lacking even the ability to produce additional heirs for your house and unable to offer a beautiful, young face to an occasion. It's a _crying_ shame."

Yuzu was hopelessly confused. Had something happened to her father? But then, surely someone would've sent her a hell butterfly. Had a bad case of hysteria plagued the nobility? 

"Wha~?" Yuzu hadn't dared sound so out of her depth around nobles in over a decade. 

The lords and ladies of the tea room happily explained everything her father had neglected to. The news broke just that morning, causing many nobles to break their finest porcelain over breakfast out of sheer shock. According to Lord Goro's son, a clerk with Central, Shiba Isshin and Kitabayashi Hotaru had registered for a marriage license. It would be issued in thirteen days' time, pending review by Central 92 for the marriage to go forward, per the law for high nobility. Considering House Shiba's high standing and the presence of Hotaru's grandson on the newly expanded committee, it was likely to pass and be formally announced in the _Seireitei Communication_ sometime next week. 

It was a shock to the nobility at large. For months, they had only known that their beloved Aunt Hotaru was keeping close company with the Captain of Squad Four during his off hours. The nobles had eyed each other suspiciously, sure that one of them had put the woman up to it in order to get one of their sisters or daughters hitched, never suspecting that their dear aunt was working towards her own ends rather than any of theirs. Now, they cursed Aunt Hotaru's name and lamented the fact that they'd have to attend the ceremony for propriety's sake. 

Yuzu couldn't be as outraged because she simply couldn't believe it. There was no way her father was remarrying - let alone to the Seireitei's resident elderly aunt. 

She left the Kojima manse and returned home at once to set the record straight.

Aunt Hotaru greeted her at the north gate, leaving as Yuzu was arriving. 

"Yuzu-chan," The honorific was overly familiar and gave Yuzu pause when at first she'd tried to pass by with a mute bow to her elder. 

"Lady Hotaru," She returned. "I...how..."

When Yuzu failed to say anything meaningful, Hotaru smiled that unique smile of her. Suddenly, Yuzu found it more than playfully wicked. Rather vaguely threatening, in fact. 

The effect was magnified when Lady Hotaru said, in an off-hand manner, "Captain Isshin and Lady Kakuku were just discussing you over dinner. You and all your siblings. Each of you has grown so much since your arrival. Pride sparkles in your father's eyes always."

"I, uh, thank you. That's great." Yuzu's vocabulary was absolutely stellar today. This felt worse than her first meeting with Rukia's brother.

Lady Hotaru tilted her head a fraction and spoke softly as ever like she didn't notice Yuzu's sudden lack of eloquence at all. But likely exactly because she had. "My own children grew up without a father. I understand Isshin's feelings, I think, and I hope that I'm not so ancient now that I can't understand you girls and your brothers. Knowing your situation, having grown to know you all over the course of many visits, I hope to be your friend, Yuzu-chan." The speech only filled the girl with dread.   

"Right..." Yuzu shifted away from the woman. "Good night then." 

Hotaru's smile thinned. "Good night, dear." She said and turned away.

Yuzu sprinted for the door and burst into the dining room. Her father's tea arced through the air and rained over his paperwork without mercy. 

_"Dammit!" "Is it true?!"_

Father and daughter shouted over one other. Then stared. 

Finally, "I know it's sudden and it was unfair to just spring i-" 

Yuzu had never punched her father before. Like many things she tried that her siblings did so often, she didn't like it all that much. However, few words expressed the hot and immediate anger Yuzu felt as well as a pop to the jaw. Her knuckles only stung half as bad as her eyes. 

" _Unfair?_ "

Her family had been incredibly unfair to her in the past, keeping entire wars secret from her. This was downright cruel.

"You're basically saying that you don't think I'll ever find Mom. How can you marry another woman when she's still out there somewhere, waiting for all of us to be reunited?" The venom of her words all but dribbled down her chin. She watched Isshin wither under her glare like he'd been doused with it. She wanted to spit that venom right into his eyes. 

An ex-almost-soul reaper's punch was nothing really to a reinstated captain. Isshin recovered quickly, climbing to his feet and fighting his daughter into a hug she wanted and did not want all at once. He held her flush to his chest like she was three years old again and weeping on the playground over a skinned knee. Yuzu let her tears fall as freely as they had then. 

"Dad, how can you...they say she's a witch..." It was a stupid, pathetic accusation and petty of her. But she wanted desperately to believe that the nobles were right, that Hotaru was an evil temptress that she and her siblings could simply save their father from like in a fairy tale. 

"Hotaru is a good woman," Dad insisted instead. "A good woman, who happens to be broke and need a hand."

 _Broke_. The word fluttered around Yuzu's head until it finally found purchase inside. Her mood lifted off at the revelation, taking flight, and the world finally started making sense again as she looked down on it with a bird's eye view. Of course her father hadn't gone ahead and fallen in love with an old woman! He was just being a good samaritan!

The financials of the nobility were complicated and many, despite their opulent tastes, were essentially living on fixed incomes. Any change in prices or standards of living could break the bank. Hotaru wasn't likely to find any charity with her nieces or nephews or grandchildren because they were in the same boat and in no place to be taking in extra mouths to feed. The Shibas were not as affected by such shifts in the economy, so it was no matter for them to take in the woman. Even so, a sham marriage was a bit much when her father could've hired Aunt Hotaru as a governess for Yuzu just for show or made her a lady-in-waiting to Kukaku...Yuzu told him so and watched his tight smile disappear entirely. 

"Yuzu...I actually like Hotaru a lot." He said. The rose color dusting his cheeks was damning. "A lot a lot." 

Yuzu collapsed to a cushion at the opposite end of the dining table. She gripped the edges of furniture, anchoring herself to reality no matter how much it hurt. She needed to understand. "So you really don't believe in me," She rasped. 

Her father didn't look away in guilt, he met her accusing look head-on. "Your mother never wanted to be a plus, a ghost shackled to earth by regrets and sorrow. All that time between her death and when your brother got his powers, I sincerely believe she'd be appalled at us, but especially me. We all moved on, carrying on with our lives as best we could without her, but in the worst ways. Your brother developed a complex, you gave up your whole childhood to look after us, Karin never let herself be vulnerable and just cry it out, and I sat back and let it all happen - I worshipped at the altar of a gone woman instead of looking after her kids." 

"You could've found her in the Soul Society," Yuzu croaked, even though she knew that it was more complicated than that. 

"Yuzu, I'd love nothing more than to see your mother again someday," Said Isshin. "But..." Hotaru was there _now_ , and she needed help, and moreover, he liked her a lot. A lot a lot.

Yuzu left the room without another word and went to her room. She sat for half an hour, weeping over an old academy textbook before turning it to ash with kido. Then she dug out her old calculator from her desk and ran the numbers. 

6.3% 

That was the Kurosaki Masaki slice of Shiba Isshin's life. Less than half the size of her own. 

Yuzu reasoned the number didn't really mean anything, but it scared her to think that the numbers would change with time and Hotaru would overtake her mother in new ways. That Yuzu might find herself thinking of Hotaru as more her mother and more her father's wife than she could Masaki. Guilt washed over her for having such an evil thought and Yuzu locked herself away the rest of the evening. Her eyes were still red the next morning, but at lunch, she greeted Hotaru with a smile and a full face of makeup. 

* * *

 **R** eplace

Lady Hotaru was a kind stepmother with a knack for tempering the mania that had ruled House Shiba since the dawn of days.

Her feats were numerous. She cajoled Ichigo, Rukia, and Karin out of the barracks and back to the house after only a few months. Introduced Ganju to a noble girl who thought pigs were the cutest. Refurbished the landscaping to cover up years of fireworks damage. Brought Kon to heel. Took charge of the staff so Kukaku and Yuzu could focus more on their work with Central. Most famously, she opened their tea room and gardens to the public and hosted dozens of musicians, poets, artists, and nobles each weekend. The Shiba Estate quickly became the social hub for the aristocracy, putting everyone that Kukaku and Yuzu needed to know for their work right within reach. 

Hotaru's own court was occupied by granddaughters and great-granddaughters eager to befriend Yuzu and Karin, their 'honorable aunts'. Some came to live on the estate with them to learn how to be ladies and attend the high nobility, others to play games and watch fireworks - all to lessen the burden on their own parents' accounts. Yuzu found some fast friends among her new nieces and helpful assistants in her work, and Karin found students in human world athletics and the shinigami arts. 

Hotaru's beloved dogs also came to live with them. Three Shiba Inus named Aki, Haru, and Natsu who became popularly known as the Shiba Shibas. So popular in fact that Hisagi took a picture of them and ran a fluff piece in the _Seireitei Communication_ to keep his latest column going. (It being a cooking tips column, some readers got the wrong impression and the column was canceled the next week anyway...)

Yuzu couldn't help seeing why her father liked Hotaru. Their first years living under the same roof cemented Hotaru as a hardworking, cultured, and kind woman. For that reason, Yuzu couldn't hate her. However, she stubbornly - childishly - refused to love her. Yuzu started calling her Aunt like the other nobles did, and if she minded, Hotaru didn't show it.  

Now that they were all in one house, sitting down to meals together almost every night again, Yuzu found herself relearning her whole family as she learned Hotaru for the first time.

Ichigo and Rukia were more cuddly than she remembered. Handholding in front of others, leaning into each other (granted, Rukia didn't take as kindly to her head being used as an armrest as Ichigo did to being used as a pillow). Though the way they looked at each other was still more intimate than any hug and often left Yuzu feeling like a voyeur at her own breakfast table.

Karin liked experimenting with her hair. One week it was in a Renji-esque ponytail, the next it'd sit on her shoulder in a Yumichika-style braid, and the week after that it'd spill down her back in Rangiku-brand waves. Her sister wore all these styles with the same cool girl smirk she'd perfected at Shin'o Academy, but Yuzu wondered if her twin was in the midst of sort of identity crisis...

Kon was facing his own self-imposed trials. He'd taken up formal martial arts training under a former Academy instructor and had ordered a weight-lifting set from the human world to keep in his bedroom. The noise he made was obnoxious and the protein shakes he was downing on a regular basis smelled rancid - so this phase was a trial for the rest of the household as well. Hotaru indulged this only because there was a girl involved. A lone girl dominated Kon's heart and mind these days, and this was better by leaps and bounds than when he'd been a peeping-tom. 

Isshin was similarly preoccupied these days - by thousands rather than one. He was always either working through mountains of paperwork or an endless supply of patients. Squad Four had undertaken the herculean effort of providing medical care to the Rukongai after the passage of the Rukongai Outreach Program by the Central body. It was no wonder Hotaru was always giving him neck and shoulder massages when Yuzu popped into his study to check-in before bed. Yuzu was stressed enough over her own work with the orphanage project. Her dad's workload seemed ungodly. 

Everyone seemed pretty beat. So, after a while, Yuzu began to feel grateful towards Aunt Hotaru. For looking after the household management. For looking after Kon. For bringing the family together again. For bringing them the puppies that Yuzu had always secretly wanted. For rubbing out the kinks in her dad's neck that he couldn't reach. Yuzu was beyond grateful, in fact. She respected Hotaru. 

But still, Yuzu could not let herself to love Hotaru. 

Her dogs were an entirely different story. 

"Natsu!" A rough tongue licked away Yuzu's makeup. It hardly mattered, since the day was at an end and it would be family-only at the Shiba dinner table that night. No high-ranking guests of any sort. Even her "nieces" had all skipped off to visit their own families for the evening. Yuzu squealed out of delight, not horror at Natsu's ruined handiwork. There was nothing like rolling around the floor with three hyper dogs, getting nipped at and licked, at the end of a miserable day. 

Aki sniffed at her clothes, whining at what was probably Captain Komamura's residual scent from where he and Yuzu had paid Squad Nine a lunchtime visit. Or maybe the tense atmosphere had wiped off on Yuzu's clothes. Dogs were attuned to that sort of thing...

Haru, wanting to play, nipped at her sleeves and wrists, beckoning Yuzu across the lounge to the trunk containing all his favorite dog toys. After successfully shooing off Natsu's enthusiastic tongue, Yuzu crossed the room to fetch their favorite rope toy. She settled on to a cushion to watch the three play tug-a-war, claws clicking against the polished floor as they shuffled and dragged each other this-way and that-way across the room.

Yuzu couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that struck her, watching them. Animals were so carefree. Especially pampered pets like the Shiba Shibas. At least humans had the benefit of watching pets be their happy-go-lucky selves and losing themselves for just a little while to their utter cuteness, Yuzu thought tiredly. 

Of course, at that exact moment, Hotaru decided to enter the room. She was carrying her own tea tray. Which meant it was no coincidence. 

Yuzu flashed her step-mother a polite smile and sat up straighter. Hotaru wasn't one to reprimand her or her siblings about decorum in the privacy of their own home. It was just a way of putting distance between the two of them. To remind Hotaru - as if she needed to be - that Yuzu wasn't the most comfortable with their circumstances. 

Hotaru returned the polite smile, set down the tea on the table and took the seat closest to Yuzu. She knew what the woman was going to say before she said it. 

"Love is difficult. I've felt several sorts of it, and it's never been easy. Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way." Hotaru began in that off-hand manner of hers as she poured Yuzu some tea. She accepted the drink quietly, with a frown at the woman's meddling. Hotaru persisted as if she truly was an oblivious old woman and spoke as she poured her own cup. "There are my children, grandchildren, and so on, of course. I love them dearly, but the sad truth is that family members know the most direct methods to shatter you. My first husband..."

That look in her step-mother's eyes was starting to become familiar. It reminded Yuzu at first of her father and cigarettes. This wasn't Hotaru's first attempted heart-to-heart, however, and she'd mentioned Tamashini before.

"He was the center of my world when I was young." Hotaru sighed. "You see, he took me away from a bad situation when I was about your age - in physical terms. I was about sixty, in truth. I spent many years trying to repay that kindness. Unfortunately, my Tamashini was just too damn chivalrous for his own good or mine. He made me as unhappy in our friendship and our marriage as he had ever made me happy, simply by never letting me do anything to let me feel that I had repaid that first kindness of his. I never felt that we were truly equal. I became dependent on him, and when he died, me and my children were lost for a long time not knowing what to do without him. I don't regret him for an instant, but I'm sorry to say that the man I loved set me on a painful path that took me a long time to find my way away from. Because he never prepared me to live without him even as he lived on borrowed time."

Yuzu knew the story by now. Lord Tamashini had been a sickly man all his life, a product of his noble lineage. He hid it for the sake of his house from his youth to his deathbed, pretending as best he could to be a healthy man. Going above and beyond in many respects, and speeding his own death along in the process. He left Hotaru widowed with three small children several centuries ago. House Kitabayashi had nearly collapsed in his absence, and Hotaru spent most of her youth rebuilding and maintaining it until their children came of age.

Her situation and Yuzu's seemed rather disparate. 

Yuzu sighed and set her tea aside. "What does this have to do with Hanakari Jinta showing up and challenging Captain Hisagi to a duel for my heart?" Just saying it aloud, reiterating the awful situation, made her insides constrict. All she had wanted was to have lunch with some friends, and she'd shown up to the Ninth barracks to find Jinta shooting off at the mouth and Hisagi doing his best to shoo off the newspaper staff who'd scented a scoop and come running. Humiliation was the dullest of the visceral feelings Jinta's shouted confession before the whole division had stirred in Yuzu. Pity, that he was even trying this, and against a captain no less. Bewilderment, that he could think there something was between her and Hisagi. Resignation, because there was no simple solution to her troubles here. Anger, because she'd turned him down once already years ago. 

It wasn't anger that drove her to step between Jinta and Hisagi. That had been an act of love, as a friend. She wouldn't let either Jinta or Hisagi be tainted by some silly duel over a misunderstanding. It was better that Yuzu fight for her own heart - Jinta had backed down the moment she'd released Soyokaze. He'd known she was serious then, about everything she'd ever said. 

Hotaru smiled into her tea at Yuzu's question, wry as ever. "Love is difficult, as I said. Men we love can hurt us without meaning to in their effort to show us their own devotion." Yuzu didn't doubt that as her friend, Jinta loved her. But as an act of love that attempted duel had failed miserably. 

"I mean no disrespect, Aunt Hotaru, but you misunderstand the situation," Hotaru set her cup down at that, all ears for Yuzu. "I'm not in love with either of them. Jinta loves me, sure, I've known that. And he's known that I don't feel that way about him. There's only one reason he's here." 

Hotaru tilted her head a fraction. 

Yuzu swallowed nothing. Not even her fear. " _You_." 

...

"Now I'm certain there's been a misunderstanding here." Hotaru chuckled.

"It's not funny," Yuzu huffed. She cradled her head in her hands, forgetting all decorum about elbows on the tea table. "Jinta may not even realize he's doing it. I don't think he'd do something so manipulative on purpose. But this really is because of yours and my dad's marriage. Jinta's probably sensed it from all the way in the human world that this whole situation - how it makes me feel, how I almost want to run away from it sometimes, and he showed up today offering me my escape route." 

For the first time, after two years of rebuffing, Hotaru looked upset. Yuzu felt sick at herself.

"You want to return to the human world, Yuzu-chan? _Because of me?_ " 

"It's more than you. It's...ugh." Yuzu chanced a look at Hotaru from the corner of her eye. "The reincarnation cycle here...does it make it - not _better_ , but more bearable knowing that your husband Tamashini has long since been reborn into the human world or the beast realm? You're not with him but..."

There was that look again. Like her dad and cigarettes. When Hotaru didn't spill her guts, Yuzu did. 

"Sometimes, I think it was easier not having a mom when I was in the human world." 

"How so?" Hotaru had no conscious memory of past life as a human, like all nobles born in the Seireitei. She sounded genuinely curious about the human experience. 

Yuzu indulged her. "I still thought about her a lot. I still loved her. I understood perfectly well that even if I couldn't remember all my time with her clearly and there was a lot she'd miss out on, that didn't make her any less of my mom...I used to be able to think that even if I couldn't see her or feel her - that even if Ichigo and Karin couldn't - that was all fine because she was watching over us from heaven or wherever. I thought when it was my time, we'd be together again on the other side. Now I've been on 'the other side' for twenty years and she's still out of reach.

"My mom could be suffering out in the Rukongai. Or have been reincarnated as a human again already. Or she could even still be trapped with the essence of so many other Quincy inside that Yhwach guy. No one really knows how his powers work, so who knows, right?" Her throat felt tight. " _That's so unfair_. Ichigo and Karin are living their dreams as soul reapers. Dad's been accepted back to the Soul Society as a hero. Soul reapers and the Quincy are getting along better. And I'm treated like a princess, but my mom...I don't even have _an idea_ what my mom might've wanted out of life besides our family." 

Five years was all Yuzu had of her mother. She couldn't remember most of it - just the best and worst times. Sunny summer days in the park that blurred into one long happy day and a single rainy afternoon where she was too young to think to say goodbye as her mother stepped out the door to pick up her big brother from martial arts practice. Yuzu never knew her mother was a Quincy. She also never really learned first hand what her favorite color was, or what type of music she liked, or if she hated instant cup ramen as much as Yuzu did. 

But she knew, from just two years under one roof, that Hotaru favored jade green kimono, and that flute musicians did well in her court, and that she didn't care for human world food much at all except for orange cream popsicles. Popsicles she always offered to share with Yuzu. She tried not to know this woman better than her mother and she'd failed as miserably as Jinta had to win her heart. It was everything she'd feared.

Yuzu's right hand drifted to her middle, to where Soyokaze rested as a tanto tucked in her obi. She gripped the warm, sun yellow handle and felt her Zanpakuto spirit reach back, offering strength and comfort. Yuzu bit her bottom lip. Soyokaze was more than a blade - she was Yuzu's eternal reminder that she was more part of this world than she had ever been part of her old one.

"Sometimes, I used to think maybe I should go back to the human world. I thought about it when Jinta asked me to return to Karakura with him after his and Karin's graduation. I thought about it again today when he showed up to embarrass himself, challenging Hisagi like that. For the first time in a long time. But sadly for Jinta, even back in the Academy, I realized that there was no real turning back for me. No pretending that I didn't know about all this stuff, hadn't been a part of it." Soyokaze protested Yuzu's fierce grip. She forced herself to relax some. "So I stayed and it's been difficult, but I don't regret it. Not for a minute." All she had to do to drive off the 'what-ifs' was think about the children in the Rukongai who depended on her and kido spells glowing at her fingertips. "I'm just sad that this world can be just as tragic and complicated as my old one. That's why Jinta's ploy didn't work, conscious or not. I'm smart enough to know that running back to Karakura Town isn't the solution to all my - my mommy issues. I just...I just wish I knew the _actual_ solution." 

"Yuzu," Her name gently whispered was her only warning. One soft hand covered her fist around Soyokaze's hilt. Another slid across her shoulders and cradled her close. Yuzu found her head resting under her step-mother's chin. "You've known the solution all along. It was always as simple as you thought back when you were a human." 

"Hotaru..." 

"Your first instinct was right. It does not matter how short your time together was, or how much longer you wish it had lasted. They're gone but that doesn't diminish who they were to you or make them replaceable, no matter how far in the past they are. You were only wrong about one thing, Yuzu." Shy fingers brushing Hotaru's hand where it still firmly clasped over Yuzu's stilled. "You do not need an eventual reunion to make those feelings count." Said Hotaru. 

Yuzu let her head rest against the woman's shoulder, stunned. It was that simple, and that painful. Hotaru might never cross paths with Tamashini in another lifetime. Byakuya might never reunite with Hisana. Odds were slim that Captain Tousen and his friend would meet again. Kurosaki Masaki might never be found. But none of that devalued the short time together that they did manage. Yuzu closed her eyes and let herself be comforted by Hotaru's presence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see!
> 
> Some clarifications if you need them:  
> >This did feature a lot of Ichiruki. Sorry that it got so much focus but I promise that a lot of the stuff in this chapter abt the nobility and customs is stuff that will become super important for later installments (should those installments happen heh heh).  
> >The name of Central 46 changing throughout the story is deliberate. It denotes a passage of time and change happening throughout the story.  
> >I mainly created Hotaru as a way of fighting against one of my least favorite tropes in fiction. The Saintly Dead Parent that can't be "replaced". Adults realize that someone finding love and companionship following a heartrending loss doesn't devalue their past with that lost person. This is part of Yuzu's delayed aging process thanks to the Soul Society's weird aging and passage of time. I also kind of inserted my own understanding of loss following my grandfather's death. I made me think about, if there is no afterlife, what that would mean for us since there would be no eternal reunion so to speak. I decided that a lack of reunion, in life or the afterlife, still doesn't devalue your feelings about someone or their value in your life. Love isn't about playing a waiting game until you see each other again. Love exists as part of you.  
> Idk that's just a personal view though. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Somewhere down the line will be a companion chapter about Hisagi's own hangups. For now, please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the piece! It would be really encouraging after how long I've worked on this particular chapter!


	5. Issue: House Kira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was initially just one part of a whole chapter featuring the issue (i.e. progeny, next generation, what have you) of several families in the Seireitei. I use the word issue because it is the term usually applied towards old-school aristocracy, which most of the families are a part of. Anyways, I'm posting the chapters individually now because I have writer's block with a few and don't want the others to gather dust. 
> 
> Stay tuned for the scions of the houses Omaeda, Ise, Ishida, and Shiba...and some other surprises, potentially.

Masaru was a chubby, smiley baby with sun-yellow hair. His pudgy fingers found their way up his nose when he was bored and up Renji's nose when he wanted things to get rowdy. Masaru seemed incapable of fright or discontent. His first and foremost reaction to everything was a toothless smile and a squeal of laughter. The more Renji growled, the more Masaru giggled, and Hinamori was reduced to a mound of besotted mush. Lord and Lady Kira avowed that his brother had been just the same as a baby. 

Shuuhei couldn't imagine Kira as a bouncing baby boy. These days, he could hardly recall his friend as a chipper academy student. He nonetheless nodded at Lord and Lady Kira's words and remarked on the brothers' strong resemblance. That, he could say in good conscience. Shuuhei was certain that under all that pudge was a familiar face. Masaru was definitely going to break all their hearts one day, no doubt about it. 

The evening drew to a close, the sunset throwing long shadows across the Seireitei and opening the gates to the Silbern. The three soul reapers took their leave of the Kira household. Ten meters out of the front gate, Momo's soft voice overpowered the distant rumble of the North shopping district. 

"Masaru is such a sweet baby. I'm glad Lady Emiko and Lord Shiori invited us to meet him. And before his formal introduction to the rest of the nobility, too! What an honor..." The three commoners continued their solemn march home through the broad streets of the aristocratic neighborhood. The sky grew ever darker.

A Quincy dressed for a night out stepped out of a pitch black corner. The four soldiers stilled, taking each other in. The Quincy combed Shuuhei head to toe, stalling on his white haori. Then the Quincy nodded, and Hisagi nodded back, and the parties carried on without a word in opposite directions. Another ten meters and Renji spoke. 

"Kira's brother is going to grow up in a much different Soul Society from what he did." The remark alone was harmless, hopeful even. But then, "With how dour he ended up, though, it's hard to say if that would've made him happy. If he was here, he might say some depressing shit about the uncertainty of these times. Or maybe by now, Ichigo might've infected him with some optimism or..." Renji belatedly realized that his thought contained too many 'if's and 'or's. 

The truth was that if Kira were alive, his formerly cheerily snobbish parents wouldn't care to know his three closest friends for any reason outside of their rank, let alone invite them to a private introduction to their newborn. The truth was that if Kira was alive, there would be no newborn to meet. Masaru was his brother's replacement, as his parents' legal heir and for the gaping holes in their hearts that'd put any hollow to shame. That was the truth, and the three of them must never speak it. If Masaru ever heard the truth, he might stop smiling, and even in the afterlife, ghosts were terrifying. 

The three turned a corner and came upon the gate of a shrine. As the men trudged past, Momo sank onto the dark steps. She hid her face in her hands and her shoulders shook. Shuuhei sat to her left, Renji to her right. They sat together, arms draped over each other's shoulders, till finally, they were able to raise their heads and bid the setting sun goodbye.

It was already gone. 


	6. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another small section of what was meant to be a larger chapter. I found a random list of word prompts and will henceforth post chapters based on those prompts individually as I complete them, rather than wait until I have completed the whole list. One down, forty-nine to go. 
> 
> Feedback is valuable to future installments. 
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving, guys. Enjoy the outsider's pov. 
> 
> And remember to kudos and comment!!!!

Midoriko texted him that they'd be having two guests over for dinner that night when he was just steps from home after picking some odds-and-ends at the store. Her apology for the short notice was profuse and accompanied by three sheepish emojis. Masui couldn't really be angry with his wife - just a little putout. He hadn't even been able to shower since he got off work. Now he'd have to deal with guests, still vaguely tinged by the aroma of hundreds of sweaty middle schoolers. 

He swung the front door open and announced his arrival home with his usual good cheer all the same. He was sure that Kiiroka and little Nami would understand his ruffled appearance and faint musk. (They'd seen him in a worse state, after all...)

Midoriko pranced into the genkan, two total strangers at her heels. 

"Welcome home, Asao-kun!" There was a healthy glow to his wife's cheeks that Masui usually only saw when her sister and niece paid a visit. So he supposed he hadn't missed some secret code about home intruders they'd established earlier and he'd forgotten about. (After the debacle with code words and his grandmother's house, Midoriko had him on the couch for a whole weekend. Ouch...) 

Their guests certainly looked interesting, Masui thought as he removed his shoes. The middle schooler had light brown hair that typically came courtesy of a bottle in Japan, though her clothes were far from the Gyaru aesthetic or any of the other subcultures popular with the kids these days. Whatever her affinity for bleach, she looked downright tame next to the twenty-something punk. The disparity between their appearances assured Masui that they'd arrived separately. 

(He imagined the girl as a new student Midoriko wanted to make feel welcome. With her odd hair, he wanted to make an anime protagonist joke - Midori would love it! - but anime was all kinds of perverted these days. The girl might take it the wrong way. The punk might find it funny though. Masui could only imagine his wife making friends with a punk if they shared one of her pop culture obsessions. Probably something like  _Death Note,_ but Masui thought a magical girl show would be funnier so he decided to believe that until proven otherwise...)

Masui exchanged quick pleasantries with his wife, asking about each other's day. Masui had stopped his parents' house after school to help set up their newest gadget, while Midoriko oversaw tryouts for the school volleyball team. Both had run surprisingly smoothly. Midoriko checked over the groceries he'd handed over and was relieved to find a fresh bottle of ketchup among them. "Phew! I hate to admit this, but the roast came out a little dry so...Thankfully Kiiroka isn't here to tell me off about ruining her mother-in-law's recipe." Midoriko went on chattering about how she'd never master western cooking - not when Japanese cuisine was still a little bit beyond her. 

Masui eyed their guests over his wife's shoulder, watching them shift their weight around. They looked so out of place - it was funny in a cruel way. Like watching a student squirm to explain a poorly hidden phone in class that they'd started playing with when they thought ditzy Masui-sensei wasn't paying attention. 

"Oh, I'm such an airhead!" Midoriko exclaimed. She presented the girl and the punk with a grandiose hand gesture. "This is Kurosaki Masaki, the child of an old friend. She's in town visiting on her way to see Arisawa Tatsuki in Central Tokyo." Masui registered three important pieces of information in his wife's brief introduction. One, the name Kurosaki. Two, Arisawa Tatsuki the famous female martial artist. Three, his wife had conspicuously not mentioned the punk. 

Masui had gone to high school in Karakura Town, so he knew the troubled history of the Kurosaki fairly well. Ichigo Kurosaki's odd behavior and equally odd friends, his eventual disappearance, and his wife's relationship with the daughters of the family. He did some quick mental math and found, yes, this was indeed possible. Twenty years was plenty of time for Yuzu to have grown up and had a young teenage daughter. A twenty-something son, though? Masui didn't think so. 

( _Still_ , nineteen-twenty was awfully young for motherhood. Masui guessed his wife's friend had gone down the housewife route since school would likely have been too difficult after that. If he remembered Yuzu correctly from elementary school, he supposed it wasn't really all that out-of-character for her. She probably had quite a few youngsters to look after...) 

Remembering his own manners, Masui returned the bow that Kurosaki and the punk offered. "Glad to make your acquaintance, Kurosaki-san." He shifted gaze from Kurosaki to her companion. "And who is this young man, if I may ask?" He said with a bright smile. It seemed to have a stupefying effect on their guests. Despite what his wife joked, Masui wasn't a  _complete_  space cadet. He knew his smile could charm the pants off a monk if he really wanted to. He was married to the prettiest teacher at his school for good reason. 

There was an awkward beat where Masui dwelled on potential quips about the punk forgetting his own name before his Midoriko jumped to the poor kid's rescue.

"His name is Hisagi Shuuhei and he is -" It was like a car wreck. Masui watched in fascination as his wife's smile become a bared-teeth cringe in slow motion. "- Masaki-chan's _b_ o y _f r_  i  _e_ n d _?_ " 

Their guests paled to an amazing shade of ghostly white. Perfect for a wedding gown, ironically. Asano's TV show might be more appropriate though. (Masui suddenly remembered there was a new episode premiering that night and hoped their guests would be gone by then - or happy to join them...?) Masui supposed his wife had been severely mistaken - or perhaps right on the money?  _Nah_ , Masui decided to have more faith in than woman than to bring a pervert around their toddler. Really, what was she thinking with their age difference?

Masui laughed it off, and color returned to Kurosaki and Hisagi's cheeks. "Cousins." They hissed emphatically. 


	7. Perfume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original prompt was "complicated" but things kinda evolved so I changed the title to "Perfume". This one will probably bleed into a future installment (more than the typical extra fluffy installment, at least).

Though she counted among her brother's friends, Yuzu never really interacted with Lt. Matsumoto until Karin transferred from Squad Eight to Squad Ten. After that - more accurately, following the fabulous welcome party Matsumoto threw for Karin - the two were fast friends. Yuzu soon found herself at the Tenth Division barracks for more than lunch with her sister. 

"See? I knew this color would look great on you!" Matsumoto exclaimed as she finished painting Yuzu's nails with a flourish. Yuzu took in the sparkling plum-colored lacquer with stars in her eyes. Her toenails were a complementary shade of red that matched the stain on Rangiku's lips. Both women's hair was done up like they were preparing for a grand banquet rather than light's out on a weeknight. The lieutenant's room was a certifiable disaster area when Yuzu had arrived hours earlier. Now, with their customary sleepover makeovers complete, the room looked like an Armageddon of hairpins and beauty supplies. It was the most fun Yuzu had had in a cramped dorm since her Academy days. 

Yuzu threw her arms around the older woman with a squeal of delight. 

Matsumoto laughed and cradled her Yuzu's head against her bosom. "I take it you're a fan? I'll send you home with the bottle." 

Yuzu pulled away (so that her voice wouldn't be muffled). "Oh, Matsumoto-chan, that's too much!" 

"Nonsense! Let me be generous. Besides, it's not like I'm hurting for nail polish." Matsumoto cast her eyes over the myriad of bottles strewn across the floor. She collapsed back onto her futon, taking Yuzu with her. "Take some perfume and junk while you're at it. Captain Hitsugaya will force the whole division to do some spring cleaning here soon anyway, so..." The Lieutenant giggled sleepily. 

"We'll see..." Yuzu whispered to the older woman's generous bust before drifting off to a tipsy nightmare about being overcome by a horde of vicious marshmallow bunnies. 

The next morning, after clawing her way free of Matsumoto's cuddle choke-hold and catching her breath, Yuzu decided to clean up some of last night's mess. She found the basket Rangiku had emptied onto the floor and started filling it with stray pins and clips. Once those were shelved, she sorted various bottles of hair and skin products into the drawers of Rangiku's vanity. The bottles of nail polish found their way back on their proper shelf, even the plum purple. The room was beginning to look presentable. As Yuzu worked to set the perfumes straight, however, she was distracted by smelling each one. 

A green bottle contained a fruity scent that Yuzu quite liked. So much so that she was almost tempted by Matsumoto's earlier offer. She sighed and set it aside in favor spritzing the air with the contents of a lustrous red vial with an elegant black puffer. The scent burned the atmosphere with its intensity. Yuzu waved her hand, desperate to clear the air. The scent persisted, cloying up her nose and nestling itself in the back of her throat - Yuzu hacked as she reached blindly for a small clear bottle in hopes it'd contain a fresher scent.

Her poor luck continued. The bottle had no sprayer, like one of those fancy brands that wanted you to dab the product sparingly. Disappointed, Yuzu futilely turned the bottle over. She paused at the string and tag she found dangling there. 

Reading the small strokes was difficult at first with her hiccuping coughs, but the penmanship was familiar. 

_I hope it's not too weak a scent for such a gorgeous flower. Happy Birthday. - Shuuhei_

Yuzu had always known that Hisagi and Matsumoto were friends, but never that they were on an intimate first name basis. She coughed into her elbow. Her throat only seemed to grow tighter. 

"Yuzu-chan," She startled at Matsumoto's drowsy voice in her ear and her hand rubbing circles on her back. "What's the matter? You sick?" 

"No!" Yuzu coughed.

The Lieutenant gave her a few good pats till the worst of the fit finally passed. By the end of it, Yuzu was red from both embarrassment and oxygen deprivation. "I am so sorry for waking you." She said, not even able to look Matsumoto in the eye. 

"'s fine..." Matsumoto yawned and rolled back onto her futon like a lethargic cat. Her bedhead was a veritable lion's mane. "I'll just take a nap on the office couch later like usual. I'll just actually need it now rather than do it out of boredom." She smirked happily. "Maybe the Captain won't throw such a big fit like always if he sees the bags under my eyes." 

"Bags?!" Guilt settled deep in Yuzu's gut. 

" _Relax._ I promise you that I'm  _already_   late."

"Matsumoto - !"

"Ssh, Yuzu-chan. This is routine. With the night we had, you're probably only awake because of the barrack wake-up call. I always come to about a half hour later. So if anything, I'm  _ahead_  of schedule. Thanks!"

Yuzu - still reeling seventeen years later from the rigid structure of Academy life - broke out in a cold sweat at the Lieutenant's flagrant disregard for punctuality. "Matsumoto-san, I'm not going to ask you to be mad at me, but at very least could you not pretend that I did you some sort of favor? It makes me uncomfortable." 

Matsumoto seemed to consider it at least before shaking her head. "Hm, nope! Now tell me if I've got to hide from Karin-chan today after letting her poor sister get sick on my watch."

Yuzu's cheeks burned anew. "I'm not sick. I was...sampling your perfumes. One was just too strong for me." 

"Oh~," Matsumoto swiped the guilty party right up from the floor. Then tossed it right out the window. Yuzu shrieked. "Should've gotten rid of that white elephant years ago." Said Matsumoto, hands on her hips. She frowned at Yuzu's slack jaw. 

"I should explain." She realized. "The Women's Society has been passing that sucker around for ages. Some unseated soul reaper brought it from the human world decades ago. Could swear the human manufacturers must've mixed up perfume with chemical weapons, and it's only gotten worse with age. The bottle looks nice, though. So at first, at a little society gift exchange, you'd think you'd gotten a really nice gift anonymously - till BAM! All your nose hairs, just  _gone_. Of course, eventually, everyone but new recruits recognized it and it became a bit of an in-joke. It's a stale joke, I say. Don't you agree, Yuzu-chan?" 

She nodded meekly at the woman's words, wondering why she hadn't just tossed it when she'd gotten home from the last gift exchange. Then she recalled her drawer full of useless 'coupons' she'd received as birthday gifts from Kon over the years. Not even for hugs or errands, but 'muscle' and 'espionage'...Maybe she had her own spring cleaning to do when she got home. 

"Keeping things we don't want or need," Said Yuzu, voice still scratchy. "I almost feel bad for that little bottle. Because it's almost certain that  _someone_  out there would love to have it. Mothball stench and all." 

Matsumoto sent her an exaggerated pout. "Don't go making me feel guilty over an inanimate object. I'll look crazy out there, searching for a tiny bottle in the grass with tears in my eyes." In a blink, however, her pout became a bright smile. She snapped her fingers and pointed to Yuzu, cheerfully accusatory. "If you're going to feel bad about a tossed out perfume bottle, then you are obligated to help me rehome my other bottles before my captain personally tosses them in the trash heap!" 

Yuzu eyed the finger being leveled two inches from the tip of her nose and sighed. She took up a pink bottle and gave it a spritz. A cloud of delightfully fruity scent wafted up her nose. "This one alright?" She asked with a smile. 

"Go for it!" Matsumoto replied with a grin. She snatched up another familiar bottle and insisted that Yuzu give it a try. 

Later, as Yuzu exited the northern barracks gate, loaded down with a couple kilos of hand-me-down beauty products, she passed by a trio of soul reapers. She smiled, overhearing one defend her new perfume ("fallen from the heavens!") to her comrades. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have been enjoying these updates. Please leave a comment and kudos if you are enjoying the chapters!


	8. Issue: House Ise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said these things would not be posted in chronological order? 
> 
> Anyways, meet Nanao's daughter.

"And the Miko turned and said to the Princess, 'The power was within you all along, my foolish child.' All her harsh lines had softened to pale, plump cheeks and her tone was fond where once it had mirrored her surly appearance. The curse was broken and at last, Princess Aoi recognized her dear friend and mentor, Junko. Master and student embraced with joyful tears and salt-flavored kisses across one another's brows. They parted only long enough to whisper promises about the bright, if difficult, future that laid ahead of them - a kingdom to rule, a shrine to rebuild, traitorous husbands to put on trial. All that could wait, however, for one last _first_ kiss by the light of the rising sun. The end." Aika shut the novella with bravado as Lisa quietly applauded her reading ability. The girl was improving every night.

"Good work. You just read a lot of big kid words. Your mom will be very proud." Permitting that the little girl didn't mention the racier passages in Acts II and III to her mother at breakfast, the eighth division captain thought wearily. Lisa usually trusted that she had Aika well-trained enough not to tattle on her, the kid was smart enough to know that Lisa getting in trouble meant a less fun babysitter down the line. With Kyoraku's genes, however, she was never safe in her assumptions.

"Mother and I have read stuff way more difficult than this together," Aika stated simply, handing the book back to Lisa. The captain tucked it into her uniform next to her own current favorite reading material.  _The Miko & the Lily Princess _looked like a well and true children's book by comparison. Even if Lisa didn't dare introduce her charge to it for a few decades yet, Nanao would have her head if she found out that she had it so much as in the same room as her little girl. 

Lisa pulled the blankets up to her goddaughter's chin as she burrowed into her pillow and curled in her tiny legs. She plucked the glasses from the girl's nose while she was at it - the kid was her mother in all ways but two. Her wavy hair and how she was always forgetting to take off her glasses before laying down to sleep. Such was the nightly routine that someone would take them off for her. Lisa was about to complete that routine with a soft goodnight and a pinch to the candle wick when Aika spoke up, soft and unusually timid. 

"Suisha Kichiro's father died."

Lisa, half out of her seat before, sank back down next to the child's bed. "Kurosaki Karin's husband," That's how Lisa knew the man. Suisha Yuuto was an unseated member of the Tenth Division and pretty forgettable aside from the fact a Kurosaki had fallen hard for him some hundred years back. He had never been especially strong, except maybe in the head department to put up with his in-laws and the nobility who disparaged his commoner background. Recently, that lacking had cost him his life. A hollow in the Rukongai had torn him and ten other soul reapers to shreds before Matsumoto and Karin arrived on the scene. The new widow had made quick work of the hollow. Word had it that Ichigo's sister had retreated into herself and the innermost depths of the Shiba manse to mourn following the battle, and she had taken her only child with her.

Aika nodded, face half-hidden in her pillow. "Kichiro hasn't been at school lately, but when he comes back...I think I want to be friends with him."

"Because he's the same as you." Lisa voiced the girl's thoughts. Aika timidly nestled deeper under her blankets in response.

Lisa supposed it was only natural. Even though Aika had been very young when Kyoraku, at last, fell victim to the Ise curse, the girl was still keenly aware of her loss. She was even more aware of her mother's loss. Aika was a quiet, stern-faced little girl, but she was far from stone. Lisa licked her fingers and put out the candle on the bedside table.

She whispered to the girl in the dark, "Be a friend to him then." _And through you, let your mothers grow closer as well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first Kira, now Kyoraku and Karin's husband. Clearly, I have a thing for the juxtaposition of life and death. I promise the next Issue chapters will be much lighter. 
> 
> And I will go ahead and confirm that Kichiro and Aika become besties, and Karin and Nanao become good friends as well.


End file.
